Chaos & Kadaj
by VendettaSmiles
Summary: When Chaos and Kadaj are returned to the Planet each experiences sole dominion over his own mind and body for the first time in a very long while. An ancient being and a temperamental teen – what could possibly go wrong? No slash. Post DOC. Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Kadaj felt the moment Sephiroth retreated from their shared body. While he welcomed the return of control, he felt bereft at the sudden emptiness. Mother and Sephiroth had both left him. Alone. This was wrong. _All wrong_. Steeling himself, he turned to Cloud, the one who had ruined it all. He would end Cloud once and for all and then figure out how to bring Mother back again.

Using the last of his energy, Kadaj staggered to his feet, lunging abruptly at Cloud. His body gave out before the lunge was complete, exhausted from battle and mortally injured. He was powerless to prevent himself from falling towards the ground. _Failure._ The word rang in his head. His worst fear. He had let Mother down – he was a failure.

Unexpectedly, Kadaj felt himself caught in strong, gentle arms rather than falling to the ground as he had anticipated. He looked up into clear blue eyes.

"Brother?" Kadaj felt his strength slipping away as he rested in the arms of the man he called brother. The same man he had fought at every juncture. The one who refused to see the _vision_ and refused to listen to Mother. But now – in this moment – Mother was gone, Sephiroth was gone. The only one here was Cloud, and Cloud was holding him in his arms and looking at him like… like a brother. Never had he experienced such compassion from Mother. He felt warm and strangely dizzy as he watched the light rain falling on his pale skin.

"Kadaj." A gentle female voice was calling his name.

"Huh? Mother? Is that you?" Kadaj asked as the most peaceful sensation he had ever known flowed over him. A laugh like a thousand bells answered him. Tiny bells, not like the deep Wutainese gong or the bells in the church steeple, he thought, but cheery silver bells like those that sometimes hung on shop doors.

"Why does everyone keep calling me that?"

Kadaj would call her anything she wanted as long as he could stay here in her presence. He curled a fist and reached upwards, into the rain and toward the magical voice. Green wisps billowed gently upwards around him, slowly obscuring his view of Cloud. Distantly, he wondered what the green wisps were or where they came from, but it didn't really matter anymore. All that mattered was that voice.

"You don't have to hold on any longer. I'm waiting for you… if you're ready."

He was ready. For once, everything slipped out of focus and ceased to matter. Not Sephiroth, not Mother, nothing. Just peace.

"Where are we? Am I dead?" he asked. He had not expected to find such peace in the Lifestream. Not for someone like him.

The laughter dimmed. "You're in the Lifestream, but you're not dead. Your place is not here – not yet – but the world isn't ready for you again, either. Sleep in peace for the time being... and then…" The voice faded out of hearing.

* * *

 _Approximately one year later…_

Omega was ascending. That couldn't happen. For all that Chaos plagued his host and longed to wreak havoc, destruction of the Planet was in a whole different category. If Omega was successful, there would be no Planet left to wreak havoc upon.

Chaos surged upwards, wings outspread. He bore no illusions – this wasn't a battle he could win without paying the ultimate price. Well, this was unexpected. He wasn't exactly the hero type. That was more his host's venue. Yeah, self-sacrifice would be right up his host's alley. Like locking himself in a coffin in an abandoned mansion for thirty odd years as some form of atonement. Chaos was still bitter about that.

Speaking of his host – Chaos would never give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him by his name – he was still here too. They would both pay the price for this foolish act of sacrifice. But perhaps not… As much as Chaos delighted in tormenting his host – the ex-Turk known to the world and his few friends as Vincent Valentine – the thought of his host dying brought him no pleasure. Clearly, though, someone would have to die to use the ProtoMateria against Omega. His host lacked the wings to do it alone… but Chaos could. A dark part of him rebelled at the thought. If he was going down, he should take others with him. It wasn't like he was friends with his host or anything.

Could he even cut his host loose if he wanted to? He had never tried before because it would ultimately lead to his death – he was not equipped to live outside his host. But if he were dying anyway…? Secretly, a small, shriveled up part of him admired his host. Born of a violent, vengeful, and now all but extinct race – a race even more ancient than the Cetra – Chaos thrived on deceit and destruction. It was no wonder the humans had come to call his race _demons_ and _monsters_ , for that is how they must have seemed to them. But a part of him admired – just a little – the lean man he had shared so much time with. His host couldn't hide any of his thoughts from Chaos. Unlike most humans, whom Chaos considered weak and petty, the gunman was completely authentic, never hiding behind pretenses or falsities. Even in his dealings with Chaos, whom he loathed, Valentine was straightforward and fair. So, yeah, a little, teensy part of him admired the man whose body he shared. Even if that man was a morose, self-punishing human.

Time was running out for indecision. His host would no doubt just torture himself for another thirty years if Chaos let him live. Ah, but _that_ had a ring to it. Especially since Chaos would not have to endure the torture with him this time. Yessss.

Not sure if it would work, Chaos grasped the hidden cord – an ethereal string of light that bound him to his host – and severed it in one fierce motion. Dropping the part of him that was Vincent Valentine and clutching the ProtoMateria to his chest, Chaos surged upwards to meet Omega in the sky. He reveled one final time in the power of his tattered wings and the exultation of commanding his own body as he rose faster towards Omega. He thrust the ProtoMateria into Omega. Immediately, pain seared through him. His lips pulled back in agony and released a cry both guttural and shrill. He _would_ endure this. He _would_ defeat Omega.

Suddenly, bursts of light erupted from Omega, falling and diminishing into faint trails. Omega was returning to the Planet. A fierce grin split Chaos' face even as he felt himself begin to blur and dissipate around the edges. In all his existence, in all those millennia, Chaos had never felt anything quite like this. Such a strange feeling, he noted, before everything faded to white.

"Chaos?" a voice clear as bells called to him. He wasn't about to mistake that voice for his mother, though. He hadn't heard his mother in millennia, but he still distinctly remembered the sound of her voice, which was somewhere between a hyena's laugh and a chainsaw. The smell of flowers flooded his nostrils. If he could have chosen a scent for the hereafter, he would have chosen the smell of blood or, perhaps, gunpowder. But no one ever said demons got to be choosers.

"Cha-os," the voice persisted yet again.

He growled in response. He might be dead, but that didn't mean he had to be nice. The voice laughed. _Laughed!_ At _him_. So, this was what the hell realms were like.

" **What name**?" Chaos demanded in his guttural growl, his speech and language rusty with disuse. Laughter! _Again!_

"I'm Aerith. We've met before. Well, sort of. Vincent is a friend of mine."

Ah, Aerith. The name was familiar. Chaos wasn't really inclined to pay much attention to the names of the humans surrounding his host. It was his way of maintaining their unimportance – and it had annoyed his host, which was reason enough in itself. Aerith. Ah, yes, she was the girl that died. The flower girl that had awakened Holy. Her name had lodged in his animalistic mind because of her death and his host's intense grief at her loss. How fitting that she would be sent here as his torturer.

"You really gave Vincent fits, you know that?" More laughter. _Please kill me now._ Oh, wait, he was already dead. This really sucked.

"You can't stay here. Not now." The voice sounded a little sad.

" **Finally, some good news**."

"Someone needs you." Clearly this chick was deranged. Or else she was confused about who she was talking to.

" **Huh**?"

"It's time. Say 'hi' to Vincent for me."

Okaaay… a few minutes ago he would have said things couldn't get worse. Now he wasn't so sure. What was she talking about? Colors began to swirl around him and indistinct shadows slipped by.

With a sudden and _painful_ impact, Chaos found himself lying in a puddle. Raising his head slightly, he found himself in an alley. It was dark out and the sounds of a slumbering city drifted to him.

" **Last time I _ever_ play the hero**," he grunted. Nope, sacrifice was definitely _not_ his thing.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you will add this story to your follows and join Chaos and Kadaj for subsequent chapters. Their adventures are just getting started.

You may have noticed some slight variations in the dialogue. You might also protest that the defeat of Omega, specifically Chaos using the Protomateria to destroy Omega, is not in line with the official version. Please forgive these variations and recall that this fic is a Slight AU. I will attempt to be true to canon in most areas.

Reviews are welcome. This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so feedback is appreciated.

I want to express my deepest gratitude to ScribeofRhapsody for acting as beta-reader for this story. Her support and attention to detail have been indispensable. If you haven't already read her fanfiction _Shattered: Act I_ , I HIGHLY recommend it.

Update schedule: Updates will be posted every 2-4 weeks. I know that is a bit vague, but the flexibility means I will be able to update within the promised parameters.

Disclaimer: All due credit for the FFVII Compilation and its content goes to its creators and copyright holders. No infringement is intended by this work of fanfiction.

~VendettaSmiles~


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had been two weeks now. Two weeks since Chaos had found himself unceremoniously dumped in some dark alley. Much of that time had been spent fantasizing about what he would do if he ever got ahold of the owner of a certain overly cheerful, sing-songy voice. Yep, that's what kept him warm at night. Figuratively, at least. In reality, there wasn't much in the way of modern conveniences in the abandoned warehouse he had claimed as his lair. No heat. No furniture. That didn't bother him overmuch, though.

Chaos had visited Seventh Heaven – the bar where some of the old AVALANCHE members lived – but he hadn't gone in. In fact, he had been careful to ensure he was neither seen nor heard. He wasn't concerned with what had happened to his old host Vincent Valentine. Not at all… maybe just a little curious.

For the first week there was no word on Valentine's whereabouts… or his survival. The gang at Seventh Heaven was clearly concerned. Perhaps Vincent's human body had not endured the fall when they parted ways. That surprised him – Vincent had always struck him as a survivor – and Chaos found himself oddly bothered by this loss. Not that he missed his host, he told himself. After all, it wasn't as if they were friends or anything. Nonetheless, he found himself hanging out in the alley behind Seventh Heaven or perched on the roof by the skylight on a basis too frequent to really call coincidence. And, if he seemed to be listening a little too closely to the conversations therein, well, that wasn't entirely coincidence either. Not that he was concerned or cared, of course. Sure, he eavesdropped closely on incoming calls from Cloud as the blond swordsman scoured the area in search of clues to Vincent's fate, but it wasn't _his_ fault he had good hearing.

Valentine might play the part of silent loner, but Chaos noted how many people came together to look for him when he disappeared. An awful lot of people for someone who claimed to have no friends. Not that _he_ was one of those concerned parties. Definitely not.

His mind traveled back to his latest visit to Seventh Heaven.

 _Chaos crouched low to the surface of the roof to prevent his outline from showing along the skyline of the building. He had to work hard to be quiet enough to avoid detection by the Mako-enhanced hearing of the spikey blond._

 _Cloud had just pulled up in a small moving truck and greeted the dark-haired martial artist with a peck on the cheek._

 _"Where did the truck come from, Cloud?" she asked._

 _"Reeve. It's on loan from the WRO. I have something you… will want to see." Cloud had become more comfortable talking in the last year and was at his most relaxed with the dark-haired beauty that had so patiently coaxed him back to himself._

 _Chaos wondered if Cloud's acquisition had anything to do with Valentine. He could no longer see the couple from his vantage on the Seventh Heaven roof as they stepped into the back of the truck, but he heard the girl's gasp of pleasure._

 _"It's beautiful!"_

 _"Happy birthday, Tifa."_

 _"You remembered my birthday!"_

 _Ugh, how sappy. Chaos restrained himself from groaning aloud for fear of being overheard._

 _The sandy-haired boy joined them then and the three of them managed to unload the van's bounty. Moonlight glinted off mahogany and ivory. A baby grand piano for the bar. Nothing to do with Valentine, then. Chaos remained silently watching the scene unfold as the three struggled to get the instrument maneuvered inside._

 _"No word on Vincent?" inquired Tifa._

 _"None, but I'll go out again in the morning and Yuffie still has her ear to the ground. I… even asked the Turks to let us know if they hear anything. Why don't you… give this a try and see how it sounds?"_

 _The martial artist sat on the mahogany bench and played a melody from memory. It was sweet and somber at the same time, the notes rising and falling gently._

 _Chaos left before the song was finished._

Chaos shook his head at himself. He was not some sentimental fool to get lost in such memories.

Word of Valentine finally came in the second week following Omega's defeat. The girl-woman Shelke had located him at Lucrecia's crystal cave. It figured. His ex-host probably went there to torture himself some more.

Shelke and Valentine briefly returned to Seventh Heaven, and Chaos watched the reunion from a distance. It was all tears and hugs. Disgusting, really, if you asked him, but, of course, no one did. He took some comfort in the fact that Valentine seemed as uncomfortable with it as he would have been.

Vincent told the members of AVALANCHE that Chaos and Omega had both returned to the Lifestream. Ha, that joke was on him, then. That would teach his old host to go making assumptions and not even looking for his old pal Chaos.

Still, Chaos found himself unwilling to reveal himself to Valentine or the rest of the AVALANCHE crew. They probably wouldn't be too happy to see him anyway. Not that he cared whether they rejected him or not. Chaos was above such petty considerations as the fickle acceptance of mere humans.

He had taken to wearing a heavy cowl and cloak that concealed his face and the cartilage of his headdress, as well as his folded wings. With the colder weather, a cloak didn't stand out too much. He still looked odd enough that people crossed the street to avoid walking by him, but with rumors of his death somewhat exaggerated, Chaos believed it would be enough to keep his identity secret.

So, here he was. Squatting in some cold, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the now flourishing town of Edge. The cold didn't bother him much, but even he wasn't immune to hunger. _That_ had been one of the downsides of residing within Vincent: the gunman did _not_ eat enough.

Eating posed a bit of a problem for Chaos, since he had no money. He had considered wreaking random havoc on people and taking their food and gil as he found it. That would have been pretty easy, considering his strength and the relative defenselessness of the common people of Edge. When he had been on the verge of his first attack, however, a voice in his head halted him cold.

" ** _You don't want to hurt people_** _._ "

 _What?_ Why was there a voice in his head? He was used to being the voice in someone else's head. Turnabout was _not_ fair play. Strangely, the voice sounded a bit like his own, but that was preposterous since he would never have such reservations.

Chaos let the rotund banker disappear around the corner without attacking. He would do it tomorrow. Yes, that was it. He just wasn't _that_ hungry yet. And tomorrow he would probably eat the fat banker when he was done too. He wasn't picky about _what_ he ate, just that there was plenty of it.

The following day had come and gone and Chaos had watched the banker head home and let him pass unhindered yet again. He told himself it had nothing to do with that infernal voice in his head. It just wasn't worth the effort to attack humans. Plus, he didn't want to draw attention to himself. Not yet. Not until he decided what he wanted to do about his former host.

So, here he sat in a cold warehouse eating rats. Yes, rats. There was an abundance of them. They were one of the few things that had seemed to flourish in the aftermath of Meteor, amid the demolished Midgar and the emerging Edge.

On the subject of rats, Chaos recalled a shared memory from his time with Vincent a year or so back.

 _Vincent, with Chaos along for the ride, was visiting Seventh Heaven. His typical perceptive nature picked up on Cloud's distress when Cloud joined him on the rooftop. The signs were subtle: a tension in the shoulders, a weight behind the eyes, a slight restlessness in the hands. Vincent didn't say anything, just waited quietly. Soon the source of Cloud's distress came pouring out in his usual halting way._

 _"Vincent… why do horrible things happen… to good people… to kids?"_

 _Vincent didn't have a reply for this. He ducked his head into the collar of his mantle and waited silently for Cloud to continue._

 _"Before Aerith led Denzel to Tifa and me… he went through a lot of things. He told me… that after Meteorfall… when he was really starving… he thought about eating rats. People told him the rats were toxic from exposure to chemicals and pollution. Denzel… he considered eating them anyway... he thought maybe he wanted to die. He thought… maybe that was the only way out from the destruction and famine and sadness that was the aftermath of Meteorfall. I… I don't know what to say to him to help him past it all." This was quite a speech for the socially awkward and generally quiet swordsman. He clearly cared a lot for the adopted boy and was heartbroken at hearing how the boy had considered suicide._

 _"Hnn."_

 _Cloud let out a deep sigh, releasing harbored tension. "Thanks for listening, Vincent. Now… I think I… understand how to help. I just… need to listen." The blond was quiet for a few minutes more before turning and descending the stairs to rejoin the family._

Chaos drowned out most of Vincent's conversations – unless it was something he could taunt his host about – but this one, for some reason, stayed with him.

Chaos didn't have to worry about toxins in his food. His constitution was considerably stronger than a human's – probably stronger even than a Mako-enhanced human's. He didn't care much for the taste of rats, that was true; however, taste was not a truly important factor to him. Nevertheless, it rankled to be here, alone, eating the refuse at the bottom of the food chain while AVALANCHE sat warm and cozy in Seventh Heaven.

Chaos rose with a frustrated grunt and headed out to walk the streets yet again. This had become a familiar pattern.

The sun had set, leaving a faint glow of light along the horizon. Streetlights had not been a huge priority in the push to build Edge, but they dotted a few street corners here and there. Steam rose up from the sewers through periodic vents staggered at the edges of the street.

Chaos found himself back in the alley where he had awakened after his trip to the Lifestream. He often found himself here. Perhaps it looked to an outsider like he came here to ponder his purpose and the reason for his return to the Planet. Chaos didn't think so, though. He came here to ponder all the ways he would subjugate humanity beneath his iron fists. Yes, that was it.

A sliver of reflection caught his eye in the darkest recess of the alley. Perhaps it was something of value left behind. Unlikely, but worth checking out. Besides, there wasn't anything else to occupy his curiosity at this time.

Not a thing of value after all. It was a body. Probably some poor sap had been mugged and murdered back here. It happened in Edge, even now that civilization was taking hold and the WRO was attempting to enforce laws for peace and order.

Chaos stepped closer and toed the body over onto its back with his boot. It was too dark to make out much beyond skin as pale as the moon. And hair that, where it was not caked with grime from the alley, shone silver as the light reflected from it. Chaos shuffled through the pockets of the body. _Just in case._

The demon was startled when the man's lips parted and let out a sigh. Fumbling, he felt at the neck for a pulse. Ah, there it was. Weak, but steady. What was he thinking? What did it matter if the stiff had a pulse or not. He would be dead by morning. It wasn't Chaos' problem. Little did he care what happened to the riff-raff of humanity. He got up and turned away, back to the open street.

" ** _You can't leave him_** _._ " Stupid Inner Voice. Meddling, ignorant Inner Voice.

Chaos turned and looked at the body again. It looked small in the dim light – fragile, even. Chaos' wings tightened in agitation beneath his cloak. With a disgruntled shrug, he knelt and gathered the boy into his arms before heading back to the warehouse.

Inside the warehouse, Chaos glanced around. The furnishings were sparse indeed: concrete flooring, his sleeping mat, empty shipping crates, an old push broom, a bucket of water. No real place to lay a body – except his own mat. His eyes returned to his mat and blanket – obtained by less than honest means, but still _his._ Growling his irritation, he deposited the still-comatose teen on his mat.

Briefly, the eyelids slid open, revealing cyan eyes that refused to focus properly.

"Brother?" the dazed sounding figure asked. The eyes slid shut again without waiting for a reply.

" **Hardly** ," Chaos grunted. " **Besides, I'll probably eat you in the morning**."

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome to Chapter 2! Thanks for reading. If you haven't read On the Way to a Smile: Case of Denzel, the subject of eating rats comes directly from that. There is also a OVA that you can watch of the Case of Denzel.**

 **Standard disclaimer applies: Chaos & Kadaj is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment purposes and without intent to profit. All due credit for Final Fantasy VII belongs to its creators and Square Enix.**

 **Remember, reviews make the Vendetta smile.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kadaj awoke with a headache – a phenomenon he couldn't recall ever having experienced before. A quick mental inventory did not reveal any additional injuries. Opening his eyes, he took in his surroundings. He was lying on a thin mat in what appeared to be a warehouse. Water dripped somewhere out of his view, and he wrinkled his nose at the slightly stale smell.

Groaning, Kadaj sat up and tried to remember how he had come to be here. No matter, the important thing was getting back to the _Reunion._ If he could just accomplish that, all else would reveal itself. Mother had _promised_.

Movement from the other side of the warehouse caught his attention, and he was instantly on guard. He had garnered many enemies in his few short weeks alive on the Planet. The figure that approached could only be described as a monster.Kadaj tilted his head and studied the creature from behind the silver curtain of his hair. The sight before him was jarring to say the least: an ashen and scarred complexion, red headdress, folded bat-like wings, a metallic clawed appendage, and faintly glowing yellow eyes. Not to mention a visage that did not betoken welcome. Well, he had encountered monsters before – he and his brothers had cleared plenty of them out of their base in the Forgotten City.

Kadaj instinctively reached within himself for the coil of power – Mother's legacy to him – but where once there was a boundless well of purpose and power, he now found… _nothing._ An empty abyss. No call from Mother, no niggling sense of Sephiroth on the fringes, no power tingling at his fingertips. Far more frightening than the monster before him was this sudden _emptiness._

" _Where's Mother_?" The question was as much to himself as to the monster before him. His voice was shrill and high. He hated that tendency of his voice when he got emotional. He wasn't a child, even if he had emerged from the black ooze of contaminated Lifestream just a few weeks ago.

" **Who**?" the monster responded, its voice resembling two boulders grinding together. It took a couple steps closer.

Kadaj took further assessment within himself. Still _nothing._ Mother was silent and his stock of Materia, which he kept embedded under his skin for easy access, was gone. No summons. No shadow-creepers at his bidding. No ability to shift his form. _Nothing._

No matter. Magic may have been one of his strong points, but he was plenty powerful enough to eliminate a monster without the use of magic. Curling his fist in the blanket beneath him, he jumped up and away, at the same time flinging the blanket into the face of the beastly creature. In the moment bought by tossing the blanket, he latched onto a wooden push broom left abandoned nearby. He swiftly jabbed the monster in the nose just as it snatched the blanket away from its face. Repositioning his hands on the makeshift staff, Kadaj brought it around for a follow-up swing. —Only to find it snatched from his hands and snapped into pieces by a metallic appendage.

Cold fingers wrapped around his throat as he was slammed back down onto the mat. More concerning than his inability to catch his breath or the pain that shot through his likely bruised ribs was the icy stare with which he was examined. _Not good. Not good at all._

" **Listen, whelp**." Yellow was supposed to be a warm color, but as Kadaj stared up into the monster's eyes, their yellow seemed the coldest color he had ever experienced. A chill ran up his back. " **You are an inconvenience to me. I would be just as happy with you dead. But if you wanted to die so badly, then you should have done it back in that alley instead of wasting my time dragging you here so you could attack me. I don't really want to clean your blood splatters off the walls of my lair. And good lairs are hard to come by in Edge, so I don't fancy moving just now**." The grinding voice raised the hair on the back of his neck.

Now the winged creature appeared to be studying him closer, as if trying to put pieces of a puzzle together. There was no reason he should be familiar to a monster – at least not a living one – but a look of recognition was sinking into its scarred face.

" ** _Remnant_**." The monster strung the word out, seemingly pleased with itself.

"Don't call me that!" His voice was high and shrill again. Cloud had mocked him with that title before, saying a mere "remnant" wouldn't know Mother's plans. If it hadn't been for the restraining hand at his throat, he would have lunged at the monster again.

" **Okay, then… _Larva_** _._ " The voice mocked him with a dark chuckle, apparently taking great pleasure in riling him.

" _Don't call me that!"_ He was shrieking now, completely losing control. He tried to struggle free to no avail. His impressive strength was no match against the large monster's might.

Suddenly, the hideous being shoved away, releasing him. " **We'll talk later**." And with that he strode away, leaving the building. Kadaj sat up and took a few steadying breaths. He needed to get his bearings. How did he get here? Where was here? What was going on? How did the monster happen to recognize him? And _where was Mother_?

The last things he could remember were falling into Cloud's arms and then the incredibly tender female voice bidding him to sleep. That didn't make sense – Cloud was his enemy. What had happened before? Images and sensations came surging back: battling Cloud, hanging from the edge of a ruined building, Cloud standing above him, pulling Mother's essence to himself, absorbing her. _Reunion._ Lost. Lost in Sephiroth's emergence and supremacy. Mother had chosen her precious Sephiroth over him. Pushed into the background, powerless and useless like a worn out gunblade that had been replaced and relegated to the closet. _No. No, it could not be!_ Mother would not abandon him.

But she had. He knew it with a cold, hard certainty in his core.

Then: Sephiroth in control, Cloud engaging Sephiroth with the fierce declaration, "I pity you. You just don't get it at all. There's not a thing I _don't_ cherish!" And then: Sephiroth defeated. Sephiroth abandoning him, Mother too. Kadaj clutched at his heart. _No!_ But the emptiness remained. They were gone. He had never meant anything to them but a means to an end.

Desperate to escape these thoughts and the empty sensation inside, Kadaj stood and stumbled to the door. It was still dark outside. He was not familiar with this portion of Edge, so he wandered blindly. Most stores were closed at this time of night, and the streets were dark and empty, save for the occasional streetlight.

Kadaj's thoughts turned to his brothers: Loz and Yazoo. If he was somehow brought back from the Lifestream, might they not also be back? In the absence of Mother – no, the _betrayal_ of Mother – he needed someone. Some connection to bind him here and fill the aching hole that had opened up inside of him. Mother, she was a disappointment. He would call her "Mother" no more. She was Jenova – a deceptive calamity from the skies, precisely as others had proclaimed her. He had not believed it at the time. He had been so _sure_. Her call to him had been as solid as an anchor and the driving wind in his sails. Every action had been so full of purpose and so clear before him. Now… now, all he had was emptiness and doubt.

Loz and Yazoo. He would find them. That would be his purpose. He would find them. Someone had to be there to tell them not to cry.

A sign caught his notice. Lit up and blinking gaudily in the night, it proclaimed the store "open." _Johnny's Heaven_. Ready for a distraction, Kadaj turned and entered. Noticing a bit of pain as he swung the door open, he glanced down at his hands. _Great._ During his confrontation with the monster, the stupid broom handle had given him slivers, despite his gloves.

The tavern was clean and empty but for one patron at a table towards the back and a tender at the bar. The young bartender sported a mop of red hair and an expression eager as a puppy's. "Welcome to Johnny's, what'll it be?"

Kadaj hadn't really thought through his decision to enter. It had been a spur of the moment impulse. He didn't have any gil on him, even if he had felt a particular desire to remain in the company of what, to all appearances, would be a chatty host. Although… this might have been a good opportunity to pump someone for information if he had possessed the gil for it. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically at the host.

"Looks like I forgot my wallet. Sorry." With a slightly exaggerated bow, he turned to go, ignoring the disappointed look on the tender's face.

"Wait. If you're down on your luck – or if you forgot your wallet – I have some stock that's about out of date. Stay and you can have something from that for no charge."

Looking back, Kadaj encountered puppy-dog eyes. He could almost imagine a tail wagging behind the counter as well. He nodded his assent.

"I'm Johnny, by the way. We have quite a bit of stock that gets outdated. Lots of people would rather go to _Seventh Heaven_. They have better atmosphere. Not to mention _Tifa._ " Johnny said this name with a dreamy sigh as he set a tray with several bottles on the counter. "Pick your poison."

Kadaj perused the options. He didn't have much – actually _any_ – experience with drinking alcohol. He had always been preoccupied with the mission, with _Reunion._ But that was over now. Nonetheless, he wasn't particularly interested in alcohol and he had a new mission now: find Loz and Yazoo.

Kadaj pointed at a bottle of red liquid. He might as well take something and use this opportunity to garner as much information as possible.

" _Cranberry juice?_ All these options here and you want _straight cranberry juice_ at two o'clock in the morning?"

Kadaj shrugged off the tender's response. If the drink wasn't any good, he could just pretend to sip at it. He took the proffered glass and sat at the counter. He sipped it gingerly. It puckered in his mouth. The bartender was watching him closely. He swallowed and repressed the urge to smack his lips. It was _strange._ Not bad, just odd. It kind of awakened the senses. He took another sip. When his glass was empty, Johnny refilled it.

"So, you new around here?" the over-friendly redhead queried.

"I've been around a few weeks." Time to turn this conversation away from himself and get some answers. "I heard there were some disturbances here in Edge recently." That should get the tender gossiping on about the kidnapping of the children, Bahamut, and the other events he and his brothers had brought about.

"Sure. There was that whole Deepground incident." At Kadaj's puzzled look, the keeper continued, "Yeah, that was really something. Those Tsviets were some scary actors. Good thing the WRO cleaned up that mess before it got out of hand." _Tsviets_? Kadaj had never heard the term. It must be a term the public had adopted for the three brothers.

"I heard there was a Bahamut." That should get the man talking more.

"Nah, there hasn't been one of those in over a year. That was when those silver-haired freaks were wreaking havoc all over the city. That was a mess too." _Over a year?_ How long had he been in the Lifesteam? His mind reeling, Kadaj almost missed the speculative look Johnny was giving his hair. His _silver_ hair. It was probably time to wrap up this conversation.

At the back of the establishment, the only other customer silently got up and exited the bar.

"Oh yeah, that's right. Wow, some pretty crazy events. Hey, look, I should be going."

"Drop by again sometime. If you have some gil, that's great, but even if you don't… well, it gets lonely here sometimes and I really like having someone to talk to. And I like you. You're good to talk to." Whatever suspicions the redhead had been entertaining a moment ago, he appeared to have set them aside.

"Sure. Yeah. Um, take care." Kadaj turned and left the establishment. He considered all the places he might go. He didn't know Midgar well, having only spent a few days there on his previous visit. He certainly didn't have any friends here. In the end, he found his steps taking him back to a certain warehouse.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Thanks for joining us for Chapter 3**

Johnny is not an OC. He appears in the original game - they meet him on the train and again in front of the Honeybee Inn. He later shows up in On the Way to a Smile in both Denzel and Tifa's stories. According to OTWTAS, he had a crush on Tifa and is inspired to open his own cafe on account of her. He tends to inadvertently send business her way by speaking so highly of her. In Denzel's story and the OVA he owns the open-air cafe where Denzel meets with Reeve. Apparently, decided to camp out in this story too, although to fit the needs of this story, Johnny's Heaven is depicted as a tavern rather than a café. Remember, slight AU.

Huge thank you goes out to ScribeOfRhapsody for beta-reading. Likewise, thank you to ScribeOfRED for posting the first review and helping identify some errors that have now been corrected. Also, thank you to Shigeki for the first favorite of this story. I hope more readers will leave a comment about what they liked or disliked.

Standard disclaimer applies. If I suddenly inherit the rights to FFVII or Square Enix, I will be sure to post that news here first. But don't hold your breath, I would hate to be responsible for your asphyxiation.

~ Vendetta ~


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The sky was beginning to glow along the horizon when Chaos turned back towards the warehouse. It had taken him the rest of the night to process the shock of the remnant's appearance in his life.

Rage had welled up inside of him when the youth had attacked. _How dare the whelp attack him when he had just rescued him?_ It had taken an immense effort to reign in his desire to annihilate the boy as he tamped his anger back under control. He wasn't sure why he bothered – the world would get along just fine with one less punk kid.

Then, as he held the teen down, recognition had crept in. It was slow at first – the last person he expected to show up under his roof was one of Sephiroth's remnants. After all, they were supposed to have died over a year ago.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with this new development. The helpless stray puppy he had dragged home suddenly turned out to be a thrall of Jenova – a harbinger of the destruction of the Planet. Not only a madman, but a powerful one. This really was more of Vincent's purview. Why did the whelp have to end up on _his_ doorstep? Part of him thought maybe he should make Valentine aware of the remnant's return, but that would mean revealing himself to the ex-Turk as well, and he wasn't sure he wanted _that_. He had already saved the Planet once – why did this have to happen to him?

Although… he _had_ enjoyed taunting the boy. The stray rose to the bait much more readily than Vincent ever had. It would almost be worthwhile to keep him around just for that purpose… But, no, the remnant would be gone by the time he got back to the warehouse – of that he was almost certain. It was better that way. He wouldn't have to make the decision – it would simply be out of his hands. AVALANCHE would probably find out about the silver-haired whelp in short order anyway. Yes, at least his problem was resolved.

Out of nowhere, something attacked. Chaos cursed himself for becoming distracted to the point of being so easily ambushed. He glimpsed a flash of shiny purple carapace as he attempted to put some space between himself and the large creature. The back of his mind registered the monster as a grashtrike, while the rest of him prepared to battle it.

The ugly crustacean monster attempted to ensnare Chaos with silk. Preoccupied with his own thoughts and caught unaware, Chaos found his left arm entirely entangled. With the sticky webbing reducing his mobility, he would have a hard time launching a counterattack and his evasive speed was severely compromised. It certainly didn't help that he had neither weapons nor Materia. He could thank Aerith for sending him back without any such tools at his disposal. Of course, he hadn't exactly made the effort to acquire any in the past two weeks either. _Oops._ Hopefully, that oversight wasn't about to cost him.

Luckily, the grashtrike appeared to be alone. He might have been in trouble otherwise. Grashtriken were pretty easy to kill with physical force alone, and he had that in abundance even when limited to the use of one arm. Being careful to avoid the crustacean's claws and stinger, Chaos let loose a series of blows that dazed the monster. His fighting style was blunt and reflexive; he had no need for frills or flare. Avoiding a poorly aimed assault by its stinger, he struck again, bringing the monster down to the ground. Chaos didn't stop until the creature was pulverized. He hadn't realized he had been sitting on so much rage. Better not to dwell overmuch on the source of that rage, for it had served him well today and that was all that mattered.

Chaos took a moment to consider the dead creature. A few monsters still lingered in Edge, despite the WRO's concerted effort to eradicate them within the city limits. The remains of Midgar and the wastelands were still heavily infested, but the monster population in Edge was pretty well contained, despite all the horrors released from that mad scientist Hojo's lab. Chaos shuddered at the thought. If ever there was a monster, it was Hojo.

As the grashtrike began to dissipate back into the Lifestream, Chaos moved in to retrieve the Materia it had left behind. Almost all of the monsters Hojo had experimented on had high concentrations of Mako, courtesy of the mad scientist's fixation on Mako treatments. Concentrated Mako could not be reabsorbed into the Lifestream upon their death, which resulted in Materia being left behind – probably the one useful feature of Hojo's sadistic machinations.

The spider-web Materia could prove useful to him in slowing down future enemies. He bent to retrieve the smallish ball of crystalline-like substance. Searing pain engulfed his hand, causing him to drop the offending object. Chaos stared at his hand where it had clasped the Materia. _What in the bloody Lifestream just happened?_ Chaos had never heard of Materia that burned its handler, and certainly the Materia left behind by a simple grashtrike should not burn? There wasn't even a source of water nearby to dunk his now smarting and itching hand into. Leaving the Materia where it lay, he headed back to his lair posthaste.

Chaos strode into the warehouse intent on dousing his hand, getting something to eat, and then catching some sleep. He was not at all prepared to find the place still occupied.

The silver-haired youth stopped what he was doing – which appeared to be picking at one of his own hands – and turned to him with an exaggerated bow. "Welcome to my humble abode."

Apparently the boy had used the time alone to recover his wits. He seemed older now than the frightened teen that had awoken on Chaos' mat. The flippant remnant gazed up at him with his head tilted and his face partially concealed by his hair. A territorial urge rose up in Chaos. _His_ abode _?_ First the kid attacked him and now he wanted to lay claim to his lair?

" **Why are you still here**?"

"But, _sir_ , you said we'd talk."

Eating the whelp was beginning to sound like a good idea again.

"I'm sure two monsters can find some diversion in this town."

" **Speak for yourself, whelp**." Never taking his eyes of the remnant, Chaos dipped his hands into the container of water he kept in his lair and scrubbed at them. _Ah, that was a little better._ He squatted and leaned back against a wall. Perhaps if he ignored the stray it would go away. It wasn't like he had fed it or anything. But then, he was curious… just a little bit.

" **Where did you come from,** ** _Remnant_** _?_ **You're supposed to be dead**."

" _Don't call me that!_ "

Oh, yes, it surely was fun to get under the stray's skin.

"How do you know about me, anyway?" the boy continued in a more normal tone.

" **Ah, I'm hurt you don't recognize me**. **We fought in the Forgotten City**. **Of course, you might not have noticed me if you thought you were just fighting my host – Vincent Valentine**."

The boy sucked in his breath with recognition. Oh, the whelp was much more satisfying than Vincent. Valentine's morose nature and time as a Turk made him exceptionally good at covering his feelings. Not so with this boy.

"I've fought a lot of _monsters_. You can't expect me to remember all of them."

 _Nice attempt at recovery, boy; too bad you read like an open book._ And it would take something a little stronger than the word _monster_ to get under Chaos's skin.

" **I'll ask again**. **What are you doing here**?"

"I'm not entirely sure why I'm here, okay? I guess I wasn't wanted in the Lifestream." The boy sounded, suddenly, vulnerable. He was trying to hide it, but it was clear as day to the ancient being. "I just need to find my brothers…"

Chaos detected honesty in the boy's response. _Surprising._ His curiosity was thoroughly aroused now. " **Brothers**?"

"Loz and Yazoo. They won't know what to do without me around, the crybabies." The boy was using his tone of superiority to cover genuine sadness and concern.

" **What about… Sephiroth**? **What about…** ** _Mother_** _?_ "

" _I don't want to talk about them!_ " High, shrill voice. Ooh, the boy really was touchy.

" **So, you just want to find the other remnants**? **No plans to end the world**?" How interesting to chat about ending the world like it was a perfectly normal topic of conversation. Strangely – in light of the events over the last few years – it seemed exactly that.

"Yes, I _will_ find them. And you will help me, _monster."_

Ah, look who was being all authoritarian. It should have made him mad, but instead he found it… amusing? Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised – next to Valentine, even a chocobo would seem amusing. " **I will do whatever** ** _I_** **choose, whelp**." It wouldn't do to let the stray get ideas or take on airs. He certainly wasn't responsible for keeping the remnant out of trouble. He should probably just eat the stray, or at least kick him out. " **But… you can stay here for now**." _Where did that come from?_ " **And…** ** _if_** **it amuses me, I** ** _might_** **get involved, but I wouldn't hold your breath… Meanwhile, you'd better earn your keep**." Yeah, maybe the kid could get a job and bring home some gil. Having better grub around might actually make up for having to tolerate his presence. Sure, _that_ was why he was allowing the whelp to stay.

The boy regarded him from behind his silver hair, but did not dissent.

" **One more thing** : **your hair**. **It stands out too much**. **You'll have to get some hair dye**." It wouldn't do to attract too much attention. Word of silver hair was sure to garner attention from AVALANCHE. Chaos wasn't sure where this strange new alliance was headed, but he definitely wasn't ready to involve AVALANCHE. " **You'll make a great brunette. Or maybe we should go with purple**?" That was a fun picture.

"No. Absolutely not! I am _not_ changing my hair."

 _Whatever._ " **It's your funeral**." Chaos took his blanket from where it had fallen on the floor during their earlier confrontation and tossed it on his mat. He reclined back and closed his eyes, effectively dismissing the remnant. It was a power play and he knew it, but one had to find their pleasure somewhere.

The boy paced from one side of the warehouse to the other. And back again. And…

" **Knock that off** ," Chaos growled.

The pacing stopped.

* * *

Thanks for joining us for Chapter 4. As always, I am immensely indebted to ScribeofRhapsody and ScribeofRED for their input and patient guidance on this project. All credit and rights for FFVII remain with their respective developers and copyright holders.

Also, I would like to extend an enthusiastic "Thank You!" to our latest reviewer, LunaEtSidera. As always, reviews make Vendetta smile.

Until next time,

~ Vendetta ~


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kadaj picked the last of the slivers from his palm. He regarded it critically. _How could such a tiny piece of wood cause so much discomfort?_ Standing, Kadaj started pacing in the empty warehouse. Chaos had gone out again, leaving him to his own thoughts. Loz and Yazoo – stupid names, but it wasn't like they had doting parents to name them – occupied his mind. He was at a loss on where to begin his search. He couldn't just hang up signs "Missing – 2 Remnants of Sephiroth – Please contact your local monster lair with info."

Somehow, he needed access to information networks. Shinra and the World Regenesis Organization functioned as the two largest information collecting agencies in Edge, and neither would be receptive to helping him. Rufus Shinra was _not_ trustworthy. Vividly, Kadaj recalled his deceitful claims that Mother— _Jenova_ had been lost. All the while the liar had kept her concealed on his person. He would _never_ go to Rufus Shinra for help. As for the WRO, the remnants had done some sizeable damage to their reconstruction efforts a year ago. Either organization would probably rather see the silver-haired trio dead than reunited.

Chaos – a fitting name for the monster – wasn't much help. It seemed he just wanted to smirk at Kadaj's efforts. They hadn't talked much since Chaos' return the previous morning – other than for the monster to insist he get a job to help support them. Couldn't the creature see he already had a mission? _Nothing_ was going to get in the way of finding his brothers.

There was another option. Another possible source of information: Cloud. He wouldn't have the intel that Shinra and the WRO would, of course, but Cloud had connections which would no doubt grant him greater access than the average civilian.

But where did he stand with Cloud? How did he even feel about the man? It was Cloud who had fought and killed him. Yet, it was also Cloud who had held him tenderly as he drifted into the Lifestream. That was more than M— _Jenova_ had ever done for him. He had called Cloud a brother, but the only connection they had was through Jenova and Sephiroth. If he no longer claimed Jenova as his mother, did that mean his connection to Cloud was severed as well?

How might Cloud look upon him now? His pacing slowed to a stop. What if he had imagined the look on Cloud's face? What if Cloud hated him still? What if Cloud wanted him dead?

The door slid open with a grating sound behind him. Kadaj turned with a barb on his lips for the creature that had somehow become his roommate, but was jolted to alertness by the sight of not one _monster_ but two _men_ entering the warehouse.

The lanky red-headed one scraped his weapon – an electromagnetic rod – noisily along the corrugated steel of the warehouse wall as he walked. His dark-skinned partner walked with an upright posture and tidy appearance that clashed with the redhead's slouchy unkempt look.

"Well, well… guess the director was right. We _do_ have a pest problem. Time for extermination…" The redhead glanced at his bald partner, who merely nodded, as they both approached.

Kadaj recognized these two. Shinra's lapdogs and Rufus' Turks. Skilled assassins, devoted to the blond business mogul. Last he had seen them was on the highway as he and Cloud had raced past them on motorcycles. He was a little surprised to see them alive. If he had given them a second thought, he would have assumed they had died in the explosion they'd set off while attempting to kill Loz and Yazoo.

"Why aren't you dead? I thought you had clocked out for good," Kadaj prodded the suited men as he subtly took a more defensive stance.

"We're Turks, yo. We come with nine lives, don't ya know? The real question is why aren't _you_ dead?"

Kadaj ignored the question; he would dictate the direction of this conversation, anything else would leave an opening, a weakness which he could not afford. "How did you find me?"

"We're the Turks, yo. We've got our sources." The redhead twirled his weapon. Kadaj thought back over the last two days. He didn't think the monster would have reported him to the Turks – it didn't fit his style. He hadn't really seen anyone else. Just the garrulous barkeeper and… _ah._ The patron at the back of the bar that had left so hurriedly.

"So, you've come to play?" Kadaj purred at the Turks. Never show weakness. He tilted his head and didn't budge. He had defeated these two before with ease and left them helpless on the floor, but that was while he still had his Materia and Souba. How he longed for Souba now. The double-bladed katana fit his hands like an extension of his own body. And Materia… he felt almost naked without it. With Materia he could have dissipated into a black fog or summoned shadow-creepers to take down these Shinra dogs. Now he was unarmed and outnumbered. Not defenseless, entirely, but at a serious disadvantage.

The Turks edged closer, clearly leery of him and unsure what abilities he might call upon. The redheaded one – ever the more impulsive of the two – ran at him suddenly. Ducking to avoid the electrified rod, Kadaj scrambled up on a stack of empty wooden shipping crates. Stacked four high, they brought him near the ceiling and over the heads of his attackers.

The lanky Turk moved to follow him up the pile; Kadaj should have remembered that one had some radical climbing skills. Luck seemed to favor him today, though, as he watched the top crate slide off the stack under the Turk's grasp, hurtling the redhead to the concrete floor where two more crates promptly bounced off his head.

The dark Turk adjusted his sunglasses and stepped forward. Kicking the bottom row of crates, he made the entire pile shudder. Another kick and the first line of crates tumbled down, several hitting the redhead where he lay on the ground. Kadaj inched to the back row of crates and used his feet to push the crate in front of him down onto the dark-skinned Turk. The Turk deflected the crate easily with his arm and gave the bottom layer of crates another solid kick.

"Not very hospitable, is he?" the dark Turk remarked to his comrade.

"What'dya expect when his mother is an alien freak?" replied the other from his position still on the warehouse floor.

Heat rose uncomfortably up his neck and burned his cheeks. All attempts to maintain his cool, detached demeanor fled. _This_ made the encounter personal. How dare they bring his M— _Jenova_ , or whatever, into it?

Luck may not be with the redhead, but it wasn't with Kadaj either, as he felt the crates below him give way with the Turk's next kick. Reaching up, he seized the iron piping that ran along the warehouse ceiling. Suspended, he could either kick at his opponents or swing to safety.

Or not.

The pipe gave way under his weight. Water shot out of the slender broken pipe and he hung by one end of it until the other end gave way as well. He tumbled to the concrete floor, not far from the redhead.

Gripping the pipe that had broken off in his hands, Kadaj scrambled to his feet to confront the larger Turk. At least he had a weapon now. That made all the difference. He whirled and, using alternating kicks and attacks with his improvised rod, he forced the big Turk back. Lunge. Block. Feint. Strike. Block. Fighting came naturally to him and – fueled by a seething anger – he felt invincible.

Finally, Kadaj was able to use his pipe in a powerful strike to the knees that brought the large Turk down. Following up quickly, Kadaj laid the end of the rod at the Turk's throat just above where the collarbones met. His hands thrummed with each beat of his pulse. He was alive, and he was angry.

Staring down at the Turk, he caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the man's dark sunglasses. Flicking the rod upwards, he flung the sunglasses from the Turk's face and then smashed them under his boot.

"Get out. Get out, both of you!" The words tore at the back of his throat, which was raw with anger. "Get out, now!" His voice was high and thin again.

The dark-skinned man got up and helped his partner to his feet. He silently pulled out another set of sunglasses and placed them on his face. The smaller Turk turned as they reached the warehouse door. "This ain't over, ya know?" Then, they were gone.

Water continued to shoot down from the broken pipe above. Kadaj was soaked. The warehouse floor was beginning to be covered in water. Chaos' mat was drenched and there would soon be standing water in the warehouse. Kadaj let out his breath and raked his limp, wet hair back from his face.

The warehouse door slid open. Kadaj turned, intending to show the Turks no mercy this time.

Chaos stood in the open doorway.

* * *

Thank you to all who have joined Chaos and Kadaj for Chapter 5. I hope you enjoyed the Turks' visit.

In addition to thanking ScribeofRhapsody and ScribeofRED for their indispensable help with Chapter 5, I would also like to thank Kaisa, Luna, Stompy, and Turk 4 Life for taking the time to review. I appreciate every review - immensely. Stompy, thanks for the heads up on Chapter 3; I believe the issue has been fixed. Luna... ask and you shall receive - stay tuned in for Chapter 6.

All disclaimers still apply. Good thing you didn't hold your breath.

~ Vendetta ~


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Chaos figured he deserved some credit for not killing the whelp. Where was that stupid Inner Voice when there was credit to give? Nowhere. Well, he certainly deserved a medal for self-restraint this time. Not that he ever got the credit he deserved. After all, where was his medal for saving the Planet from Omega? Exactly. The one thing that made it remotely worthwhile was the look on the wet puppy's face when he walked in. _Priceless_.

He was not pleased to hear it had been the Turks that had invaded his lair. Typical. The organization truly had slipped since Valentine's day – these current Turks made a mess of everything they touched. They had better not show their faces around him – not for a long time –or they would pay for invading his territory.

More so, they would pay for attacking his stray. Wait… when had _that_ happened? When had the stray become _his?_ He looked at the whelp. Inconvenient. That's what he was. Barely housetrained. Cramping his style. He should probably break his neck for flooding the lair. But no one _else_ had a right to his neck – certainly not those lousy Turks.

Cleanup of the drenched warehouse was a chore. Chaos had tried bending the pipe to cut off the flow of water, but that had only increased the pressure. In the end, it was the kid – _Kadaj,_ but Chaos wasn't going to give him the acknowledgement of actually using his name – who had found the shut-off valve for the water and stopped the deluge. But not before everything in the warehouse was soaked – including both of them. _Not_ amusing.

Chaos thought back to their conversation afterwards:

 _"_ _I need a weapon." The whelp was staring at him from behind his still damp hair._

 _"_ _ **Hnn**_ _…" See? He could give Valentine a run for his money on silent and brooding. It had not been a good day so far. Scratch that – it hadn't been a good_ week _. Truthfully, it hadn't been a good millennium._

 _"_ _If they come back, I need to be able to defend myself."_

 _The whelp did have a point. It was time for both of them to acquire weaponry. The grashtrike and the Turks had made that abundantly clear._

 _"_ _ **We don't have any gil**_ _."_

 _"_ _Fine! I get it, okay? I'll get a job… or I'll find some way to get the gil."_

 _Good. The whelp was coming around and seeing things his way. Maybe once he was bringing home some gil they could get out of this dump of a warehouse and into someplace better._

 _"_ _ **No kidnapping**_ _." The stunt the remnants had pulled at the Forgotten City couldn't happen again. He wasn't about to listen to the Inner Voice's rantings if he supported the boy in kidnapping – not for all the gil on the Planet._

 _"_ _Just what do you suggest? Do I look like a porter to you? The only thing I really know is fighting and I don't even have a sword." The stray paused briefly. "What I wouldn't give to have Souba back." The boy said the name like someone in love._

 _"_ _ **What's that**_ _?"_

 _"_ _Souba… my perfect blade. Lost when I went to the Lifestream. Who knows where it ended up." The boy's arms and head drooped in exaggerated frustration._

 _"_ _ **Hmm… a double-bladed katana**_ _?" A suspicion was forming in Chaos' mind._

 _"_ _Yes!" He had the whelp's full attention now. "You've seen it?_ Where? _" The boy was getting that imperious tone again, but he decided to let it slide. This time, anyway._

 _"_ _ **Seventh Heaven. There are three weapons mounted on a back wall: a double-bladed katana, a gun, and some other contraption**_ _."_

 _"_ _Velvet Nightmare and the Dual Hound," the boy spoke reverently. "My brothers' weapons."_

 _"_ _ **Hnn**_ _…"_

 _"_ _We have to get them."_

 _"_ _ **What**_ _?" Where did the "we" come from and how was invading AVALANCHE'S den a good idea?_

 _"_ _We have to take back what is mine. And my brothers will need their weapons, as well." The whelp spoke with all the conviction of a preacher, but there was no way Chaos was helping with such a fool's errand._

Chaos looked at the boy again as they waited for the lights at the popular bar to finally go out. There weren't many things beyond his ability to understand, but how the whelp convinced him to come along on this escapade was surely one of them.

* * *

A few hours from dawn, the lights at the bar finally went out. Kadaj – with Chaos lounging at his side – waited impatiently for another hour before making his move. Cloud was out of town overnight on a delivery, so they wouldn't need to worry about his enhanced hearing. It would be just Tifa and the two kids. Nevertheless, Kadaj was as silent as possible while he jimmied the lock. Maybe he should take up burglary. The monster _was_ still insisting he get a job. But no, sneaking in the dark wasn't his style. This was just one mission, and it was to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Inside the bar was quite dark. Kadaj moved like shavings to a magnet towards the back wall where three weapons hung in the gloom. He reached out and touched Velvet Nightmare – Yazoo's gun. Beautiful, cunning Yazoo with his shoulder-length hair. Next, as if by its own volition, his hand strayed to the Dual Hound. Loz's weapon of choice. Childlike Loz, always crying. How he missed them – it was an ache which nearly robbed him of his breath.

Kadaj turned his attention to the double-bladed katana displayed above his brother's weapons. _Souba –_ a balm for his tortured soul. He reached up and gently, reverently lifted the blade down. He cradled it to his cheek, careful to keep the cool blades flat against his skin. He had never had a home, but he imagined if he did it would feel a little like holding this blade again.

He set his sword on the bar and lifted down the additional weapons. Velvet Nightmare was damaged. Badly. He would have to have that repaired before Yazoo saw it. It wouldn't do to return the gun in this condition. He tucked the damaged weapon inside his jacket. Lifting Dual Hound down, he secured the stun-weapon as well. Meanwhile, Chaos stood silent beside him.

What did it mean that the three weapons were displayed like this? _Showcased,_ like trophies of war. Anger flared at the thought. He would avenge this. For his brothers. His vendetta. He again picked up Souba and turned to Chaos. They had retrieved the weapons and not been detected. Now they just needed to make it look like a common burglary in order to not arouse suspicion. So far, so good.

"Chaos." The velvety masculine voice came from a darkened, supposedly empty, corner of the bar.

Kadaj nearly dropped Souba at the unexpected sound. He turned abruptly, peering into the dimness where light glinted off a golden gauntlet.

* * *

"Chaos." A voice like gunsmoke and silk. A voice Chaos would recognize anywhere. He turned to face the ultra-quiet gunman. Only this man could have sat there the entire time, unnoticed.

" **Vin-cent**." Chaos turned the two syllables into a purr. Behind him, the whelp began to advance, double-blades gleaming slightly in Chaos' peripheral vision. Chaos stopped him with an outstretched wing. The hot-tempered teen would just have to cool his heels. This was his… fight? This was his… whatever it was.

"And here I didn't think you knew my name." What would have been a sarcastic remark on anyone else's lips was a flat statement from Vincent.

" ' **Ex-host** ' **just doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely. Besides, I have myself a new… toy**." He tilted his head towards the boy, who made a rather inarticulate noise at the label.

The former host struck a match and lit an oil lamp on the table beside him. Illuminated in its glow was the deadly three-barreled gun resting handily in his lap. Valentine, the ex-Turk. Valentine, the master marksman. The bar suddenly seemed far smaller than it had before, and tension hung in the silence between them.

Chaos wasn't sure if he _could_ die again, but he didn't really want to experiment to find out. Plus, he _was_ certain – following his encounter with grashtrike Materia – that he _could_ feel pain. He would just as soon not get shot full of holes, thank you very much.

"There were rumors one of Sephiroth's remnants was back in town. I had no idea he was keeping such company, though."

" **Surprised**?"

"Hnn… What are you up to, Chaos?" The flickering lamp illuminated the red hues of the ex-Turk's signature mantle.

" **I'll let you know… sometime**." He found himself studying the former Turk. It was… weird, disconcerting, even – seeing Valentine this way, from the outside for a change. For over thirty years he had shared space in the same mind and body with this man and he found himself looking for something. Longing for… something…

Nah… he was probably just hungry.

The ex-Turk turned his gaze to the boy. "Does Cloud know you're around?"

"Why, I was just leaving my calling card."

The whelp really had a knack for cheek. Chaos might come to like him after all.

"Hnn… You should speak with him. He's going to find out sooner or later."

"What do you suggest?" The kid was still behind Chaos, but Chaos had furled his wing again so the two could talk more directly.

"I'll talk with Cloud in the morning when he gets back. Come by the bar in the afternoon."

"And what then?"

"Hnn… I can't make any promises. That is up to you and Cloud."

" **So, you're letting us go**? **Just like that**?" Chaos was not sure what he expected of his old host. Something.

"Yes."

"I'm taking Souba. And the others." Defiant little whelp.

"They are rightfully yours, Kadaj. Make sure you bear them with honor and they will remain so." Valentine shifted silently in his seat. "Tomorrow afternoon, then. We'll be expecting you."

With a sweeping movement, the silver-haired remnant turned towards the door. Chaos hesitated.

" **The others… are they… still with you**?" It was a question he had pondered on many an occasion while he had loitered in the shadows, watching the comings and goings at Seventh Heaven. Not that he cared. Not really.

He wasn't sure if Valentine would know whom he meant, but the gunman nodded almost imperceptibly behind his high collar. "They are mostly quiet – except sometimes for Galian – but they are here."

" **Hnn** …" Chaos followed Kadaj out the door into the darkened street.

* * *

 **Wow, you're still here? Thank you for sticking with this story to Chapter 6!**

 **I hope you enjoyed the reclaiming of Souba and meeting Vincent again.**

 **Many thanks to Stompy and Moosh for reviewing the escapades with Reno and Rude last chapter. As always, a huge thank you to my beta readers. Leave a review or send a pm if you want to guess how the meeting with Cloud will go.**

 **~ Vendetta ~**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chaos was already perched at the skylight when Kadaj arrived, even though he himself was early. It made him wonder just how much time the winged being spent at Seventh Heaven. The monster silently acknowledged him as Kadaj took a position next to him. Below them, Cloud was speaking to the habitually still Vincent, who stood with his arms crossed at the back of the bar.

Kadaj sighed. He had come directly to the bar from Johnny's Heaven – an encounter that had not gone as well as he had hoped. In appreciation for Chaos' aid in regaining Souba, he had decided to apply for a job at the redhead's bar. Right now, the redhead was the closest person he had to a friend other than Chaos, and that wasn't saying much. It had started off well enough:

 _"_ _Hey, Cranberry Man!" the redhead greeted him enthusiastically as he entered the bar, causing the few patrons occupying the place to turn and look._

 _"_ _Perhaps you could call me something else?" Kadaj let his distaste for the nickname show on his face._

 _"_ _Like what?"_

 _Johnny's question caught him off-guard. He supposed now that his return was out to the Turks and AVALANCHE both, there wasn't any huge reason to keep his name a secret from the friendly barkeeper. "Kadaj."_

 _"_ _Good enough. What can I get for you? More cranberry juice?" His smile was rather infectious and Kadaj found himself smiling tentatively back._

 _"_ _Sure. But… I'm also here to inquire about a… job." He brought his voice down almost to a whisper. Why did he feel so awkward asking that? It wasn't like having a job was a shameful thing, and it wasn't like he was asking for charity, but he definitely felt embarrassed. To cover his emotions, he sipped the drink the bar-keeper deposited before him._

 _"_ _Well, we aren't all that busy. But what can you do? Are you any good at mixing drinks?" The bartender swung his eyes towards the rows upon rows of bottles behind the bar._

 _"_ _I could… learn?" That response earned him a dubious look from the bartender. This was humiliating. He didn't owe Chaos this. He wasn't sure he owed the monster anything, but certainly not_ this _. He turned to go._

 _"_ _Wait… you could sweep and mop the floors. Anyone can do that. I can't pay much, but it would be something."_

 _Two hours later – and a fair amount sweatier – Kadaj had more than earned his first honest paycheck. He was pretty sure that kidnapping was preferable. Janitorial positions were officially off his list of prospective careers, and he wasn't going to continue working at the bar. There had to be something else._

An outburst from Cloud brought Kadaj back to the moment at hand.

"Vincent, _how_ is he not dead? I _watched_ him enter the Lifestream. Will this nightmare _never_ end?" The blond swordsman's voice would have been audible on the roof even without enhanced hearing. He was _not_ receiving Vincent's information well.

Kadaj recoiled from the lash of those words. _Rejection._ He had been right about Cloud. How naively _foolish_ of him to have hoped Cloud might help find his brothers. He was just like everyone else. Kadaj's fist clenched around Souba's hilt. Baring the blades, he jumped lightly down from the roof. He reached for the door, but a rubbery wing blocked his way. He hadn't even noticed Chaos following him off the roof.

" **Give it a moment**."

"Get out of my way, Chaos," Kadaj growled.

With a shrug, the monster obliged and Kadaj swept into the bar. He crossed the room, headed straight for his blond nemesis. Cloud blocked Souba's strike with his own swiftly drawn sword.

"Outside. Take this outside!" Tifa had come from behind the bar and was gesturing for them both to get out.

Kadaj made a mock bow in her direction. "Join me outside, _brother_?" Kadaj backed to the door and Cloud followed his lead. Vaguely, he noted that Vincent, Chaos, and Tifa crowded the doorway after them to watch. None of them offered to interfere, though, and he kept his attention riveted on his rival.

Once outside, Cloud immediately launched a slashing attack. Kadaj deftly matched him. He was aware that both of them were agile and skilled swordsmen. Excitement coursed through his veins at crossing swords with Cloud once again. Kadaj may not have inherited all of Sephiroth's memories, but he had retained nearly all of the muscle memory of his predecessor. His so-called brother had beaten him before, but here was his second chance.

Their fight ranged up and down the narrow, dirty street in front of Seventh Heaven. Seeking an advantage, Kadaj leapt up onto an archway above the street and Cloud followed with every bit as much ease. A life-sized statue of an angel separated them, looking down impassively on their struggle for supremacy. Kadaj leaned against it with his right arm to counterbalance his weight as he struck at Cloud with Souba in his other – his dominant – hand.

He wasn't simply fighting Cloud – no, not anymore – he was fighting every bad thing that had happened: every betrayal, every abandonment, every disappointment.

"You think you are so much better than me! But you're just a puppet too!" Kadaj leapt back down to street level, followed closely by Cloud, who pressed relentlessly for an opening.

" _I. Am. Not. A. Puppet_!" Cloud's words were punctuated with decisive lunges at Kadaj. The metal of his sword rang as it struck Souba again and again.

The final attack flipped Souba out of Kadaj's hands and sent it sailing out of reach. Cloud quickly pressed his advantage, cornering Kadaj against a building.

"You _were_ and you hate _me_ because I remind you of that fact!" Kadaj spat the words at Cloud with all the venom he had. He might be cornered and he might not survive this fight, but he would say his piece, regardless of the consequences.

"Cloud?" Tifa questioned from the sidelines.

His sword still holding Kadaj at bay, Cloud took a deep shuddering breath. When he raised his head, he met Kadaj's eyes squarely. "It's not..." He trailed off and then started again, "I… just want to have a normal life. _Every_ time I think things are starting to work out, Sephiroth is there to turn it upside down again. I finally have a chance to make things right… to have a family… and here you are to make sure it can't happen." Cloud was trembling, and the sharp edge of his blade pressed more firmly against Kadaj's chest.

"And what is it you think _I_ want? Can't you believe that _I_ want to be normal too? That _I_ want family? All you see me as is a _parasite_. A larval Sephiroth. A bug under your almighty shoe. But you _don't know me_!"

Dropping his head slightly, Cloud removed the edge of his blade from across the front of Kadaj's chest and took a step back. Kadaj thought he detected a hint of the compassion he had sensed in Cloud before. "Perhaps… you're right. I don't know you. All I know is the pain and suffering Sephiroth has caused. _Always_." The swordsman halted, seeming to consider his next words carefully. Raising his head again, Cloud met his eyes with a quiet resolve. "So… you've got a chance to show you're different, but you only get one shot at it, so _don't_ mess it up. If we cross swords again, I _will_ kill you." With a decisive nod of his head, Cloud took another step back, placing more distance between them and effectively releasing Kadaj from against the wall.

Tifa stepped forward from her place by the door. "Why don't we go back in now, huh?"

Kadaj collected Souba from where it had fallen, but hesitated to follow the AVALANCHE members inside. Chaos stood to the side, apparently waiting to follow his lead. Finally, Kadaj ducked back into the bar, rolling his shoulders inconspicuously to relieve the tightness. He declined the seat Tifa offered – standing, he would be in a better position to defend himself in the tense and crowded atmosphere of the bar. He kept Souba in readiness as a further safeguard should events escalate.

"So… Kadaj, what are you going to do with yourself now?" The dark-haired martial artist smiled gently as she asked. He supposed it was sweet of her to try to diffuse the tension and break the ice with small talk, but his mouth was dry and he wasn't sure he could make small talk as if he and Cloud had _not_ just been battling in deadly earnest in the street. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice would cooperate.

"I'm, _ahem_ , going to find my brothers. And, I guess, a job." Kadaj glared at the AVALANCHE members, daring them to challenge his assertions. Daring them to laugh at his ambitions. But they did neither and a short silence hung in the air.

A meaning-filled look passed between Tifa and Cloud. It was awkward being around people who had such a close bond. Kadaj didn't have anyone anymore with whom he could communicate simply by a look. The horrid feeling of being alone rose up again, threatening to choke him.

"Uh… Kadaj… um, Strife Delivery could use another currier. You could come to work… for me."

Cloud's offer took him by surprise. Was this an olive branch? Kadaj looked up at his blond brother-of-sorts. No, there was an ulterior motive here.

"You just want to be able to keep an eye on me, isn't that right?" It made sense. So why did it hurt so much?

"I… won't deny that… supervision may play a part in wanting you close, but I… really do want to help you."

"I don't need your charity and I _certainly_ don't need you for a _babysitter_." Kadaj moved towards the door. He had had _enough_ of this. Enough of Cloud and his superiority.

His progress was immediately blocked by Tifa. "Kadaj. This is my bar and you are welcome here. I hope you and Cloud can work things out, but, either way, please, think of this as a refuge for hurt souls." She pulled down a yellow flyer from the bulletin board and handed it to him. "If you won't take Cloud's offer, take this." Tifa paused, but did not release him from her gaze, "But know this… if you _ever_ harm _anyone_ I love again…" She let the warning hang in the air before smiling again and stepping out of his way. Kadaj and his brothers had once faced a mother Mugbear with her cubs up near the Northern Crater and just then Tifa reminded him chillingly of that encounter. He blinked wordlessly before he continued towards the door without looking at the flyer she had given him.

At the door, his progress was halted yet again – Vincent Valentine this time. "Kadaj, this may prove useful to you." The ex-Turk proffered a cell phone in his outstretched hand. Kadaj met his eyes – unusual eyes that somehow reminded him of Chaos, even though they were of a completely different hue. No smile, but no malice there either. "I've taken the liberty of programming in some numbers."

Kadaj felt his anger bank marginally as he took the small device and weighed it in his hand. Valentine had gotten him – _him,_ not Chaos, strangely enough – a phone, without even knowing how this encounter would play out. He was oddly moved by the gesture and ducked his head in brief thanks before exiting the bar. He sensed Chaos following in his wake, but had nothing to say to him.

* * *

 **Thank you so much to the wonderful people who took time to leave reviews for Chapter 6: Luna and The Moss Stomper.**

 **I hope you enjoyed Chapter 7.**

 **Kadaj can be a little... prickly, can't he? Leave a review if you would like to let us know what you thought of his meeting with Cloud and Tifa. Honestly, it's a complicated relationship for both Kadaj and Cloud, but we'll have a chance to look at that a little more in depth later on.**

 **Also, there is a small piece of irony in this chapter that I am curious if you readers noticed, so leave a comment or pm me if you think you know what it was.**

 **As always, thanks for reading. Have a great two weeks, and we will see you back here for Chapter 8.**

 **Vendetta**

 **7/31/15**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Chaos watched the whelp finish hanging his new hammock in the warehouse. He didn't offer to help, but noted that at least the kid was smart enough to hang the hammock from the wooden beams of the ceiling and _not_ from the piping that ran along it. Young pups could learn new tricks after all.

Maybe that was why Valentine had gotten the boy a phone instead of him? Perhaps the gunman thought the kid would be better suited to learning the technology? It shouldn't matter to him. No, it wasn't like he was jealous or anything – _that_ would be ridiculous and utterly beneath him. Besides, he would be around long after all these humans were dead and gone. Their fleeting little lifespans were meaningless in the context of the whole realm of time.

What of Vincent, though? His lifespan had been artificially lengthened by his unnatural fusion with Chaos. Now that they were parted, would he retain his current state or would he return to aging as a normal human? Not that it mattered. _He_ didn't care either way. It wasn't like he needed the morose ex-Turk – or anyone else – hanging around through the ages.

When the remnant had finished, he leaned back in the hammock and began to fold the yellow flyer he had received from Tifa into a paper airship. He didn't appear to be having much success, but there was a good chance he hadn't had much practice with such things. As best as he could tell, the boy hadn't had any normal childhood experiences. His time after emerging from the Lifestream the first go around had pretty much consisted of trying to take over the world, bring back Sephiroth, and do the will of that psycho alien, Jenova. That first lifetime had only lasted a matter of weeks before he was defeated and plopped back into the Lifestream by Cloud.

It was a strange circumstance that had melded cunning brilliance with childlike vulnerability and naiveté. There was probably not another individual on the Planet quite like this stray that had taken up residence with him. Sure, the boy _thought_ his brothers were out there too, but Chaos highly doubted it. The fickle thing called life – or fate or happenstance or what-have-you – had a nasty sense of humor in his experience. Nope, he couldn't quite believe the boy's "brothers" were out there just waiting for some sappy "happily-ever-after" reunion.

The whelp noticed him watching and glared at him, his fine silver hair partially obscuring those odd cyan eyes. Apparently, he was still nursing his anger from earlier in the day. Chaos chuckled darkly as he recalled the events from their shopping expedition.

 _Chaos inspected a knife at the market critically. It was a bit crude in its construction and the blade probably wouldn't hold its edge. Plus, it was overpriced. Maybe he was getting old, but_ everything _was overpriced. When he was a youth, things didn't cost this much. Of course, when he was young, no one used gil – bigger, smarter monsters ate smaller, dumber ones and took whatever they had. Yep… those were the days._

 _The boy had suggested they hit Market Town – the main buying and selling district in Edge – using the gil he had earned the day before. The whelp had been pretty quiet after their confrontation with Cloud, so Chaos was a little surprised at the offer, but not inclined to turn it down._

 _He had suggested the teen trade in his leather clothes for something less conspicuous, to which the teen had responded by rather pointedly eyeing his headdress and wings. He guessed the kid had a point. Black leather probably didn't stand out near as much as his own appearance. His cowl covered it pretty well for the time being, but soon, when the weather got warmer, it might become an issue._

 _The kid's gil wasn't going to go far. Apparently, janitorial professions weren't the most highly paid. The boy had bought a hammock and some food – for some reason the whelp had an aversion to eating rats – and then they had started visiting the weapons shops._

 _Chaos put the defective knife down. He noticed the boy had taken an interest in the glass cases containing Materia. Recalling the incident with the grashtrike, he wondered if he could safely handle_ other _Materia. Was that an isolated incident, or was he going to have trouble with_ all _Materia? He wasn't exactly eager to experiment with answering that question. That burn had_ hurt.

 _And, if it was_ all _Materia that would affect him in this manner, then why? What had happened to him in separating from Valentine that could cause such a phenomenon? There wasn't exactly any precedence he could recall for reference on his current situation. Well, the kid had come back from the Lifestream too, but he hadn't been fused with another person and wasn't a demon to start with – well, not literally, anyway. Was there any chance this odd phenomenon would affect the boy too? He narrowed his eyes; it looked like he was about to find out. If he were nice, he would tell the kid what had happened to him, forewarning the whelp in case it wasn't an isolated occurrence. But where would be the fun in that?_

 _Chaos found he was watching with bated breath as the shopkeeper handed over a shimmering ball of Materia to his eager young customer. Hissing loudly on contact, the teen dropped the Materia and grasped his left hand with his right. Apparently, whatever the phenomenon was, it_ had _affected the kid too. Chaos made no effort to hide the smirk on his face or disguise the soft chuckle that erupted from him._

 _Still clasping his no-doubt burnt and itching hand, the lad turned suspicious eyes on him. Suspicion quickly gave way to fury. "You knew!"_

 _"_ _ **Well, not technically**_ _._ _ **Suspected is more accurate**_ _."_

 _If looks could kill, he would be roast chocobo about now. His chuckle intensified to a guffaw._

Yep, the kid was still mad at him. _Too bad_. Standing, he walked over to the hammock and snatched the flyer out of the kid's hands. Flattening it out, he read the printed notice. _Armed Escorts – top pay plus bounties._ Hmm. With all the growth in Edge and the slow clearing and rebuilding going on in Midgar's ruins, there was a high demand for supply shipments across the wastes. Those supply shipments would need guarding from monsters and bandits – that made sense. This was actually something his silver-haired companion might be good at. However, the irony of either of them hunting monsters or protecting the innocent was not lost on him.

" **Well**?"

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to look into it. Don't think that means I'm giving up on finding Loz and Yazoo, though, because I'm not."

Chaos looked closer at the flyer. He rather expected the WRO would be the party in charge, but was surprised to see it was an independent contractor. Well, that was actually better than working for the WRO – less chance of running into Valentine or his acquaintances that way. Yes, he was going with the kid. Couldn't risk the whelp getting himself killed when he was just starting to bring in the gil. Besides, he was getting bored with this barren warehouse and of Edge at large.

Chaos deftly folded the flyer into a perfect replica of an airship. His lip twitched upwards; he knew the boy was watching. _See, that's how it's done._ True, humility _wasn't_ his strongest suit.

He gave the paper airship a toss. As soon as it left his fingertips… it dropped to the ground like a chunk of granite off a cliff.

The whelp snickered.

" **Shut up, boy**."

"Don't call me 'boy'. I have a name, you know."

Sure, the kid had a name. Didn't mean _he_ had to use it. It was gratifying to see his subtle slights were not going unnoticed. He found it much too rewarding to annoy the whelp with other appellations, so he wasn't about to start using his actual name. At least not before the Northern Crater thawed – maybe in a few more millennia.

* * *

All standard disclaimers apply and no infringements intended. As always, deepest thanks to the Scribes for their assistance. Thanks for reading!

08/14/15

~ Vendetta ~


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Kadaj wiped sweat from his brow. The weather was turning unseasonably warm, and his body was not acclimated to the change. If it got much warmer, he might have to rethink wearing black. There was almost no breeze out here in the wastelands, and he noted Chaos had shed his outer garments, revealing his wings and headdress to whomever happened along – which, thus far, was no one.

Somehow, he had expected the job to be more glamorous than this… or, certainly, less boring. Still, it was better than mopping up at a bar – who knew bars were so disgusting? – and they had taken down a couple smaller groups of monsters on their first few forays out as armed guards. Not particularly challenging, but better than this monotony. He enjoyed the physical release of fighting and the sense of being _good_ at something. Meanwhile, Chaos seemed content with the prospect of obtaining gil. In that regard, his companion struck him as remarkably single-minded.

He was glad he had been able to get his winged associate hired without Chaos having to show up for an interview, too. That would have been awkward. _Hello, here is my roommate who wants a job killing monsters, boss. What? He looks like a monster himself? No, those aren't wings, those are just… Oh, his teeth? Well, yes, he has been meaning to see a dentist about that. His eyes? Well, um, he has an eye condition, you see…_ Yes, it was for the best that the contractors had hired his companion sight-unseen and no-questions-asked after his own interview.

The procedure was pretty straightforward: escort the cargo – whether a caravan or single truck or something else – to its intended destination and collect a flat predetermined fee for its safe arrival. Sometimes it meant riding on top of the trucks, sometimes it meant walking alongside. Sometimes it was a round-trip gig, and sometimes – like now – it meant walking back after the cargo arrived at its destination. What he wouldn't give for a motorcycle about now.

Any monsters destroyed in the process were quickly photographed before their dispersion into the Lifestream, and the photos transmitted via cell phone to the main office where their bounties would be credited to the proper accounts.

The job did seem to be working out, despite the boring aspects, and he supposed he owed Tifa a "thank-you," but since that would mean going back to Seventh Heaven and possibly seeing Cloud again, it probably wasn't going to happen right away, if at all. He wasn't bitter, exactly, towards the spikey blond; he just didn't know _how_ to feel about him yet. On the one hand, the swordsman was giving him a second chance and _hadn't_ killed him again when given the opportunity. On the other hand, he _sensed_ the man's rejection and judgment… and, perhaps, that was even worse. It was like he was living in the man's shadow and was _never_ going to measure up to the "hero" of the Planet. It wasn't enough to just _not_ be evil, not when he was living in the wake of a veritable _savior_.

He needed to find his brothers: the only real solution to these depressing thoughts. So far, though, he had not been able to turn up so much as a single clue. He had asked around in Edge, as surreptitiously as possible, as well as putting the question to his current employer. And… nothing. He wasn't about to give up, though.

His hand brushed against a bulge in his pocket and he idly extracted the phone Vincent had obtained for him. Flipping it open, he glanced through the preprogrammed numbers: _Vincent, Cloud, Tifa_... Those were to be expected, he supposed. _Reeve_ , that name sounded familiar – he would ask Chaos about him later. _Rufus_. _No thank you_. He was tempted to delete the number then and there.

A moment of déjà vu swept over him as he recalled the last occasion on which he had used a cell phone. He had called Rufus and had to endure the rude behavior of one of the Turks before being put through to the Shinra executive. The memory left a sour taste in his mouth, and he recalled how the smooth-talking man had blatantly lied to him. He flipped the phone closed and shoved it firmly back into his pocket.

Kadaj looked around at the surroundings. This segment of the terrain between Kalm and Edge was dusty and barren. Not only were there no monsters to fight, there wasn't even anything to look at. He adjusted the blue cloth he had taken to wearing at his neck to catch sweat and dust, neither of which was very comfortable if it got under his leather outfit.

But, there, in the distance. A bit of movement near a stand of boulders on the horizon. He looked to Chaos, ascertaining his companion had seen it as well. Technically, since they were on a return trip and not currently guarding a shipment, they didn't _have_ to engage any threats, but anything beat this boredom, and the bounties were always welcome. With unspoken agreement, they left the road to investigate.

" **Guard hounds** ," Chaos identified them as they drew nearer. " **Deepground used packs of them to pursue their enemies**. **These probably went feral after the Tsviets were defeated**."

Kadaj nodded. That made sense. Chaos had updated him on the details of Deepground and the Tsviet threat during some idle moments back at the warehouse. They paused now, still at a distance, to watch the animals. Dark blue-black fur rippled over lean muscled frames as the animals caught their scent and turned to watch. Red tentacles attached at the base of their necks snapped in agitation. A large one, presumably a male, roared.

It was a bit of a shame to have to destroy the creatures. They didn't have any more control over what they were than he did. They never asked to be genetically manipulated into monsters by sadistic or profit-minded Shinra scientists. He hadn't _asked_ to be coalesced out of Sephiroth's darkest ambitions and contaminated Lifestream. No one would choose to be made a monster. He shot a quick look at his companion. Well, maybe Chaos would – he seemed quite comfortable with his identity as a monster.

He turned his attention back to the guard hounds. Yes, they were beautiful in a way. Nonetheless, the creatures posed a threat not only to the transports, but also to innocent civilians traveling between Edge and Kalm.

In silent agreement, the pair continued towards the pack of guard hounds until their proximity triggered the dog-like animals to initiate their own attack. From there it was a flurry of snarling teeth, lashing tentacles, Souba's bright gleam, and the flash of Chaos' gauntlet. Typically flamboyant in his combat, Kadaj kept this encounter as brief and straightforward as possible given his distaste for the task. Meanwhile, Chaos was his normal, bluntly aggressive killing-machine self.

In a relatively short span of time, blue-black bodies littered the ground, and the pair found themselves once again unopposed. Kadaj grimly set about the task of photo-cataloguing each kill so the bounties could be registered and credited.

Having finished, he looked around for Chaos, finally locating his companion on a rock-strewn mound of dirt some distance away. Closing the distance between them, he realized what had drawn the winged one over, and immediately wished he hadn't. A den… an occupied den.

Chaos unemotionally dispatched the first of the two kits as Kadaj approached. Chances were the monster was debating whether it was edible.

"Wait," Kadaj said even as Chaos snatched up the second pup… kit… cub? What did one call the offspring of guard hounds? His directive to wait was shocking to himself as well as Chaos, who turned to stare at him in question.

The pup thrashed in Chaos' metallic grip, attempting to whip at him with its pitiful tentacle. Grasping the kit by its scruff, just behind the tentacle, Kadaj took the creature from his companion and studied it. It was darker than its fellows, more nearly black than blueish, and sported a white patch running down its underbelly from its chin to its tail. It had ceased its struggles under his inspection, perhaps as a result of the transfer from the steely golden claw to Kadaj's own, more fleshly, grasp. Or perhaps the kit was studying him back with its own over-intelligent, tawny gaze.

Chaos eyed him suspiciously, " **Don't let useless human emotions keep you from what is necessary. They are too young to survive on their own out here. It would be no kindness to leave them alive to starve or be attacked by other monsters**."

He chose not to acknowledge the comment as he continued to study the creature held helpless before him. Again he marveled at the inherent beauty of the specimen. Not much bigger than a large bag of potatoes now, the pup would mature into one of the deadly beasts such as they had just conquered – rising above the waist in size and armed with teeth, claws, and vicious tentacle. Well, it would have, had it not the misfortune to be found and its kin killed. For a moment, he saw himself. Young, powerful and full of promise. Brought down before his time. Family slain. Alone in the world, against the world. Vulnerable, and without allies.

Kadaj froze. It was the first time he had honestly considered the possibility – the possibility Loz and Yazoo were not coming back, that he was completely and utterly alone.

No, they were out there – he refused to give up on them. But, still, _what if_?

Still held by its scruff, the pup brought its tentacle around to encircle his forearm in a gentle caress. He froze. The action startled him more than anything else the creature could have done.

" **Uh-uh**. **No**. **You better** ** _not_** **be thinking what I think you're thinking**!" Chaos' outburst did not distract him from his contemplation of the dog-like science experiment. " **It is a** ** _monster_** **. It may look cute and cuddly now, but don't forget – don't ever forget – it is just a monster**."

"Just a monster…" Kadaj repeated. "What are we, then? What do you think people see when they look at us?"

" **Oh no**. **No, you don't**. **Don't even go there. That thing is nothing to do with us. Don't you even think of filling** ** _my_** **lair with filthy strays**."

With one hand, Kadaj stripped off the band of blue cloth he wore at his collar. Snugging it tightly around the guard hound's muzzle, he eliminated the threat of teeth. Then, using both hands, he nestled the large pup against his chest and breathed in its scent. Pine – oddly enough, given the desert-like surroundings.

"Let's go home."

Behind him, his winged companion sighed audibly. " **Just remember, I don't do litterboxes**."

"It's a guard hound, not a cat."

" **Same difference**."

* * *

Thank you so much to the loyal readers who are still hanging in there! Hopefully you enjoyed the addition of a guard hound to our little group. Your support means so much to me. Special thanks to The Moss Stomper for reviewing again.

Regards,

~ Vendetta ~

08/28/15


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Keeping the _two-legged_ stray had been bad enough. Having him drag home his _own_ stray was surely topping on the cake. Whose lair was this, anyway?

Chaos watched as the boy attempted to teach the guard hound to "stay," but it appeared the cub had more interest in playing than learning. To his credit, the silver-haired stray was showing more patience with his four-legged pupil than Chaos would have expected.

As if sensing his thoughts, the guard hound turned her Mako-brightened eyes on him in silent regard – odd that the eyes proved to be a heritable trait.

Overall, he found her eerie. There was too much intelligence in those eyes for just a cub – just a beast. And whoever said humans had an advantage over animals on account of opposable thumbs had never had a pet with a tentacle. Opposable thumbs had nothing on what the black creature could accomplish with her whip-like appendage. She was a fast-growing animal and her tentacle had already achieved a five-foot reach, giving her access to practically anything she desired – which was amusing when it was the whelp's throwing knives she helped herself to. Not so amusing when it was _his_ stash of jerky she pilfered.

He also wondered if the species should have been called "night hounds" instead of "guard hounds." The lithe cub was decidedly nocturnal, and had no respect for those who were not. Of course, Chaos was pretty nocturnal himself, so it was probably more of a hardship on the boy than anyone else. Served him right.

He had to admit she was good for the teen. The boy seemed less consumed with thoughts of his missing brothers since her arrival, and he smiled, at times, without that typical mocking cast to his features. Not that Chaos cared whether his stray smiled or not. He just noticed, that was all.

The guard hound had accompanied them on their last few escort assignments. Admittedly, her presence helped to break up the monotony between encounters.

However, at the moment Chaos was sick of watching the two strays. When he stood and headed out into the street, the whelp didn't even acknowledge his leaving. It wasn't like he needed a reaction, though. He shifted his wings restlessly and let his feet choose their own course. Not surprisingly, they led him somewhere familiar.

Seventh Heaven was doing steady business this evening. Tifa ought to think about hiring more help, Chaos reflected, as he claimed his usual perch near the skylight. He had become used to the ebb and flow, the daily patterns at the bar. This time of day – dusk – brought out the families looking for an evening meal together. Later, the families would give way to couples out for a date, and, later yet, the more serious drinkers out to drown their miseries. Good luck to them on that.

He couldn't say why he came on evenings like this when Vincent wasn't around. Not that he could say why he came when Vincent _was_ visiting, either. Chaos found he watched the families most of all – both the customers and the oddly stitched together family Cloud and Tifa had formed with the two kids. The families of Edge were an unremarkable lot to look at, dressed in drab colors and showing the wear of a hard life in the midst of so many catastrophes following one upon another. Yet, still, he watched them. The way they refused to give up. The warmth in the smiles that flashed between mother and father, the gentle encouragement from parents to their little ones, and even the discipline of the children when they were out of line. It was all foreign to him.

"It's not polite to spy on people." The chiding statement startled Chaos, and he turned abruptly to face the little girl who had joined him on the roof without his knowledge. She confronted him with a fearless and accusatory glare that was a bit shocking on a child who only came to just above his waist. The girl that stayed with Tifa and Cloud – what was her name again?

"Marlene? Are you up here?" Tifa's voice called.

Ah, yes, _Marlene_.

Tifa's head soon followed her voice as she climbed the steps leading to the roof. She drew in an extra breath at seeing Chaos and wrapped her arms protectively around the girl. "Chaos, what are you doing up here?" Something about her posture and direct question reminded him that this small-looking female had faced down not only Sephiroth, but also Bahamut and countless other horrors that would have sent most grown men crawling under their beds in terror.

"He was being rude and spying on people."

 _Busted._ Weeks and weeks of hanging out up here and now caught by a little female tadpole. Wasn't that just his luck?

"Marlene, this is Chaos. Remember how I told you about Vincent's… friend?" Tifa's hesitation made him smirk. Most likely she would have used the word "parasite" instead if it weren't for the tadpole.

"Oh, okay." The girl's simple acceptance was so forthright and complete, it took him by surprise. "It's still not polite to spy on people."

" **Duly noted**." It wasn't every day he got scolded by a tadpole.

"Marlene, let's invite Chaos downstairs. Maybe he would play with you awhile as I take care of some more customers."

" **I don't play with dollies**." He couldn't quite suppress a shudder at the thought.

"Neither do I, silly!" And, just like that, her little hand was slipped into his and tugging him unrelentingly towards the steps. He was reminded of her hiding behind Valentine's cloak in the Forgotten City when Cloud was being a moron. He would never have expected her to accept him as readily as Vincent, though.

Downstairs, the girl pushed him almost forcibly into a booth seat and skipped merrily off to retrieve something or other. Most likely it would prove to be some instrument of torture. How was it he could spend hours squatting on the roof with not a cramp, but less than two minutes in this booth and he felt about ready to crawl out of his skin? Definitely too many people around.

The tadpole was back in a blink and plopped a box down on the table in front of him. _Chess._ Well, things were looking up. How hard could it be to win a game of strategy against a child?

"Don't be fooled. She may be only eight years old, but she is a killer when it comes to chess." Tifa's warning didn't deter him at all. She was probably sending a subtle suggestion to let the kiddo win – spare her fledgling self-confidence or some such thing – but that wasn't going to happen. He was, after all, a demon.

Chaos chose black, naturally. He had never played the game of strategy, but how hard could it be? The girl told him the rules, how each piece moved and its limitations – okay, so it was a little complicated, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Tifa stopped by their booth with a fresh baked cinnamon roll for Marlene and – to his surprise – one for him, as well. _Wow, just… wow_. He was never eating a rat again. _Ever_. How could he have lived this long and not known about fresh-baked cinnamon rolls? He licked the last bit of icing from his fingers, ignoring the girl's assertions that licking fingers was impolite.

"Checkmate!" the tadpole crowed triumphantly.

A fluke. That's all it was. He was just getting acquainted with the rules this time around. He would prevail on the rematch.

Seven games and four hours later, he had to concede maybe it wasn't a fluke.

"Marlene, you need to go up and get ready for bed." Tifa's voice broke into their game, causing him to look up and notice the bar's clientele had shrunk and shifted from families to couples and singles.

"Awww…" Marlene made the universal sound of protest used by children around the Planet, a sound even Chaos recognized.

"No 'buts,' young lady. Your father is going to be here tomorrow, and you don't want to be too tired to spend time with him. Upstairs, now." Tifa would make a pretty good drill sergeant or… mother. Not that Chaos knew much about either of those things. His was a solitary existence – with the exception of the time spent shackled against his will to Valentine – and he liked it that way. Really, he did.

"She likes you, you know." Tifa halted by the booth after the tadpole scampered upstairs.

" **Couldn't tell it by the way she wiped the table with my chess pieces**."

"She doesn't believe in throwing a game. The only way you will win against her is fair and square. She has a pretty strong sense of fairness, of right and wrong… She is also a pretty good judge of character." Tifa was studying him from behind her long eyelashes as if she wanted to say something more, but instead turned to attend to another customer's needs.

Well, there wouldn't be a chance to win fair and square, since he wasn't planning to come back to the bar – not inside, anyway. Then again, it was kind of nice how the whole place had faded away for hours. And the way her hand had felt as it slipped into his and dragged him down the stairs… well, that was okay, he guessed. If he ever had a kid, he would want a girl like Marlene, one that wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. _Wait! What was he thinking? Never happening._ He didn't want kids at all. _Ever_.

Besides, he was the last of his species, so it wasn't like that was even possible. Not to mention with all the blundering around those Shinra monsters who called themselves "scientists" had done, there was no telling how messed up his genes were now. Besides, what kind of a father would he be? He wasn't going to raise a kid the way _he_ was raised. Sure, he turned out _just fine_ , but he couldn't quite bring himself to be that harsh with a child. And he sure didn't know anything about raising one any other way, not like Tifa and Cloud. If he _were_ a parent, he would want to be like them, but that was foolish thinking – he would never be a parent.

Maybe, though, just maybe, he _would_ play against the tadpole again. Just to be nice. She must be a lonely kid, with Cloud and Tifa working so much and her dad off doing whatever it was he was doing. Yeah, he would come back sometime for _her_ sake. He would only be doing it for the tadpole.

Not that he was going soft. _Certainly not._ No, he would really just be doing it for free cinnamon rolls. _Right_.

* * *

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Marlene was not originally part of this story, but since characters seem to like to boss me around and tell _me_ when they want to show up, here she is. And I am so happy that she decided she needed to be part of Chaos' story.

I also want to thank you all for reading and especially those who have left reviews. I am glad that the guard hound (my first OC ever!) seems well received. Stompy and Luna, your support is as always extremely appreciated. Special welcome to new reviewer Crimson Wings. It means so much that you all have taken the time to leave comments. Welcome also to new follower Jillian.

All standard disclaimers still apply. Also, if you are enjoying this story, know that it is in large part due to the efforts of my wonderful betas - Rhapsody and RED.

Hope you will join Chaos and Kadaj again in two weeks for the next update.

~ Vendetta ~

09/11/15


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Kadaj swirled the red liquid in his glass while the guard hound pup played at his feet. Fortunately, the shot glass she had found to play with was made of heavy, nearly unbreakable glass. It made an odd rattling noise as she batted it in circles across the floor, her paws dwarfing the tiny glass. He kept a close eye on her here at Johnny's Heaven. Her tentacle seemed to have a mind of its own and would randomly snatch things off the countertop from time to time. He didn't mind, even when she occasionally broke glass items, which Johnny would then put on his account. Her antics helped keep his mind off topics it had already tirelessly run into the ground. He reached down to scratch her ears, and she leaned against his leg.

The dark-coated animal had already doubled in size, one of the outcomes of the genetic manipulation forced upon her species. Faster growth meant faster readiness for deployment either as a weapon or an agent of protection. Shinra was predictable in those days of genetic tampering – always thinking of the bottom line, no matter who got hurt along the way.

Now, according to Chaos, Shinra had become a significant behind-the-scenes funder for the WRO and its works of progress. It remained unclear, however, whether that represented a true change of heart, or simply a more devious scheme to manipulate and retain control.

He was mostly tuning out the redhead behind the bar and letting his mind wander to other things when another voice broke through to his conscious awareness – a soft-spoken voice right outside the barroom entrance.

"Sure, Reeve. I don't mind meeting here, but… what's on your mind that you didn't want to talk about at Seventh Heaven?" _Cloud._ With Reeve, who – Chaos had informed him – was the head of the WRO.

Kadaj brought his head up sharply as he scanned the bar for someplace out of sight. He was not ready to confront the blond again so soon. Seeing no other option, he pulled himself across the bar and down the other side, making the redhead's eyes go wide. If the bartender didn't stop staring at him, hiding was going to be pointless – not to mention much more embarrassing when he was discovered. He motioned furiously for the man to ignore him. Johnny looked at him harder for a moment and then set about zealously polishing some already clean mugs. Kadaj sighed in relief and let his head fall back against the cabinetry while tuning his ears to hear more of the conversation as his one-time nemesis and the fellow named Reeve entered the bar.

There was the opening necessity of pleasantries: Reeve inquiring after Tifa and the kids and Cloud's quiet responses. The blond seemed more impatient to get to the point of the meeting, whereas, Kadaj guessed, his companion was stalling.

"What's going on, Reeve?" Cloud pushed a little harder once Johnny had served them drinks.

The older man let out his breath. "I'm leaving Edge, Cloud."

Cloud must have indicated his surprise somehow, and Reeve continued, "My doctors are recommending relocating… to Mideel." He let this information sink in and then continued, "They say the clean air, temperate climate, and lower elevation will be better for my lungs."

"Your lungs?"

"Ironic isn't it? I guess no amount of penance spares us the consequences of our sins. There is a kind of poetic justice that the same air I helped pollute is killing me."

"It's that serious?" Cloud's solemn voice was even softer than usual.

"Well, I'm not ready to 'kick the bucket' yet, if that's what you are asking. But yes, my doctors say if I don't leave the area and find a better climate, I won't be here in another five years."

"What about the WRO?"

"That's actually what I wanted to meet with you about. I thought it better that you and I talk without an audience."

"You mean Tifa."

"Yes, what I am going to ask is serious, and I wanted to give you time to think about it before anyone else knows." Reeve coughed, and kept coughing. Kadaj winced in sympathy at the deep, wet sound. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I just can't stop once the cough starts. You know, I am actually looking forward to Mideel? Anyhow, about the WRO, I wanted to ask you if you would step up as head of the agency."

"I—" Cloud began.

"You have all the qualifications for this type of leadership, even if you don't see them. I should know, I was there – well, Cait Sith was there. You led AVALANCHE through thick and thin. And then again when the remnants appeared, you handled the situation. I can't think of anyone I would trust more with the future of the WRO and Edge – and Midgar, as it's rebuilt. It's not been easy, deciding to hand the reins over, and it's something I can only do if I fully trust my successor."

Cloud was silent in the face of Reeve's urging. Finally, he said, "I… can't, Reeve. It's not that I… don't believe in myself – not anymore – but I have responsibilities now. Tifa and the kids need me; I see that now. I don't think I can be what – _who_ – they need and manage the WRO. My priorities have been pretty messed up. I can't afford to make that mistake again."

Reeve chuckled. "Don't look like you just stepped on my toe. I expected that answer from you. And I am proud of you for it."

"You are?"

"Sure. And don't worry – I actually have someone else in mind that I think will work out fine."

"Who?"

"I had better not say until I get an answer from him, but I think he will be perfect – nearly as good a choice as you would have been. He's younger – well, I suppose he is a little older than you, but younger than me. I think it's about time for my generation to turn control over to the next. We made a royal mess of things… me, Scarlet, Heidegger, Palmer, the President… I have tried to atone through the WRO, but I think it's time to hand over the torch and hope the next generation does a better job than we did."

"So, this other person…"

"I don't think you've met. You'd like him though. He's smart, too – probably the best intel agent we've seen. He's private though, doesn't care for crowds and likes to remain in the shadows. If he agrees to head up the WRO, I'll make sure to introduce you."

"I think I'd like that."

"So, speaking of intel, I hear you've had a little excitement lately?"

"You mean Kadaj?"

 _They were going to talk about him_. This could very well be the most awkward moment of his life thus far. The impulse to sink into the floor warred with the impulse to listen to every detail with fascinated interest.

"Yes, I can't imagine what that must have been like for you – him showing up after being gone this last year."

"Yeah, it's weird, you know. I mean… it's a little like having Sephiroth back again, but… not. When I look at him, it's like I… can't help but see Aerith as the Masamune took her from us. I – we lost so much to him. Even Cait Sith… I know you've made newer models, but that doesn't take away from his sacrifice – and it's _all_ because of Sephiroth. When I see Kadaj, I think of all those things _and_ the things Kadaj tried to do: kidnapping the kids, summoning Bahamut, bringing back Sephiroth… even torturing Tseng and Elena; and I think _how can I look past_ all _of those things_? But then, I… I know better than most what it's like to be controlled by Jenova – after all, _I_ gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth. _I_ nearly killed Aerith… I was powerless."

"You see yourself in him, then?"

"I don't know. Maybe… sometimes. And there's more. Even with everything Kadaj and his brothers did, I feel like… like I almost owe them. I was on a bad path and it almost cost me Tifa. In a way, the remnants are responsible for showing me what I had to lose… for waking me up before it was too late."

"I never thought of it that way." The two men sat in silent reflection for a few minutes before Reeve added, "By the way, you weren't the only one to encounter Kadaj." He described in accurate detail the Turks' visit to the warehouse. Apparently, the WRO had eyes in many places, informants even within the elite of Shinra. Reeve finished his tale of the Turks' failure. "Well, I guess if it brings a smile to your face, perhaps we should be grateful to Kadaj after all."

"Maybe." A little of the smile found its way into Cloud's voice.

"Don't worry too much about Kadaj. The WRO is assigning an operative to keep an eye on the situation."

"What about Chaos? Do you think he will be a problem?" Cloud asked.

"I don't know. Vincent doesn't seem to think so, and I am inclined to trust his judgment. He probably understands the situation better than any of the rest of us." The head of the WRO started coughing again and took a while to get himself under control.

Soon, the sounds of the two men getting up filtered across the bar and down to Kadaj.

"Johnny, when did you get the new pet? Aren't you afraid it will scare off customers?" Reeve called, his voice accompanied by the sound of their steps approaching the door.

The redhead made an inarticulate sound, and for a moment Kadaj was sure he was going to reveal his presence, inadvertently or not. But Reeve and Cloud continued out the door, apparently not questioning the redhead's lack of speaking faculties or the multiple glances he threw in the direction of the floor behind the slate-topped bar. The redhead slumped with visible relief once the door had closed behind his noteworthy customers.

Then the bartender straightened and gazed down at Kadaj. "Do you have something to tell me? _Kadaj_?"

Now why had he gone and told the barkeeper his real name? Of course, jumping over the bar and hiding might have let on that something was up, even if the redhead hadn't overheard Reeve and Cloud discussing him.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, 'Thank you for the drink.' Now, _stay out of my business_." He turned on his heel and left before he would have to see the expression on the man's face – he could do without the kicked-puppy look right now. Holding the door open just long enough to let the guard hound out behind him, he strode into the light of the street.

* * *

Thanks again for reading! Correct guesses on who will be heading up the WRO will be rewarded with a free imaginary cupcake.

~ Vendetta ~

09/25/15


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Kadaj wished it were night rather than broad daylight. He needed to walk the empty streets and breathe in fresh air. He needed to be alone in the comforting arms of the dark as he processed Cloud's revelations. Instead, the bright noonday light assaulted his eyes and the people pressed in on all sides, going about their daily tasks.

He would just have to return to the dimness and the stale air of the warehouse. At least there he could be alone to think.

But not as alone as he was hoping.

Irritation tightened his chest. Not only was Chaos at the lair, but he was lying on Kadaj's hammock, as comfortable as a chocobo chick in a nest – well, a very bat-like chocobo chick. The nonverbal statement was plain: _What's mine is mine and what's yours is mine, too._

He halted inside the doorway and considered, letting his hair conceal his expression. The monster was clearly on a power trip. Left unchecked, the level of presumption and condescension was bound to escalate. Yet he couldn't fight Chaos over something as petty as the use of his hammock any more than he could simply let it go.

He did _not_ need this right now – all he had wanted was to come home and think. _Home._ What a funny word. When had he started to think of it that way? But, truly, that was the crux of the matter. Loathe as he was to admit it, he didn't want to leave – to be on his own again – at least, not until he found his brothers.

How could he respond to this delicate balance without giving up ground to Chaos or initiating a conflict he couldn't afford?

Silently, the guard hound pup rose from where she had settled beside him and paced to Chaos' stash of belongings on the far side of the room. With a glance over her shoulder at him, she began snuffling through the monster's belongings.

" **Kid – get your vermin out of my stuff**."

He pretended not to hear Chaos and smiled as he heard the unmistakable sounds of a guard hound eating.

" **Argh, not my jerky again**!" Chaos shouted as he leapt out of the hammock.

For a moment, Kadaj froze in fear that his roommate would harm the half-grown pup. It had seemed funny at the moment, but he would not forgive himself – or Chaos – if the guard hound were injured. He relaxed when he saw she was faster than the winged being and evaded him with ease.

The monster gave up after a half-hearted attempt at seizing her tentacle and proceeded to assess the damage to his comestibles.

Kadaj helped himself to the hammock and let his hand trail down to the guard hound's soft fur as she settled below him.

Chaos, having finished his inspection of the guard hound's depredations, stalked huffily to the door, where he paused. " **Keep your feline out of my stuff**." Then he was gone.

"She's a guard hound, not a cat," Kadaj muttered to the empty warehouse.

But finally, the warehouse was his, a quiet refuge for his thoughts – the tranquility of the warehouse broken only by the self-satisfied noises of the pup cleaning her whiskers.

* * *

Returning in the early hours of the morning from another visit to Seventh Heaven, Chaos settled on his mat and eagerly unwrapped the cinnamon roll Tifa had sent home with him "for Kadaj." He glanced at the boy, who was meticulously cleaning and oiling his brother's gun, the one he called Velvet Nightmare. _What the whelp doesn't know can't hurt him._ Besides, there was no way he was going to share with the boy after the events of the previous day. He was still miffed his power play had backfired. No doubt the guard hound had done it on purpose, too. If it weren't for having discovered the delectable goodness of cinnamon rolls, he would probably eat the overgrown housecat in retaliation. Yep, that's what he would do, if he were not preoccupied…

Chaos pointedly ignored the boy as he proceeded to bite into the gooey, still-warmness that was sheer intoxication.

" ** _It's inconsiderate to eat_** **his** ** _cinnamon roll in front of him_**." Stupid Inner Voice. Why did it have to plague him now? It was bad enough dealing with the tadpole's chidings – at least those he could leave behind when he wanted. Well, _fine._ He turned his back to the teen and commenced devouring the cinnamon roll. _I'm not eating "in front of him" now._ He smiled wickedly at having pulled one over on the Inner Voice.

This train of thought brought back his conversation earlier with Tifa on the roof of Seventh Heaven. It had been after the closing of the bar and long after Marlene had gone to bed, the child having defeated him at not only chess but an assortment of other games as well.

 _Since the victorious tadpole had headed to bed, he returned to his favored perch on the roof. He let his gaze rove over the rooftops of Edge, unusually at peace within himself, despite being foiled first by the guard hound and then by the tadpole._

 _Some hours later, after the last slightly slurring customer was chased out and the doors locked for the night, he heard the haunting notes of the baby grand. Tifa played the same song as she had on the day Cloud had presented her with the piano. Tonight, the music had a soothing effect on Chaos, and he felt the muscles in his back and wings loosen in response._

 _When the piano finally fell silent, he supposed Tifa would go to bed. Instead, he felt a surge of territorial irritation when he registered her presence on the roof. This was_ his _space. He claimed it, and what right had anyone else to intrude upon it?_

 _The feeling faded when the martial artist remained silent and merely followed his gaze across the darkened city with her own._

 _A question had been playing through his mind. One he had not thought to ask anyone. After all, it wasn't as if he had a long list of confidants. But in the comfortable silence of Tifa's presence, the question came unbidden to his lips: "_ _ **Do people normally have voices inside their heads**_ _?"_

 _He refused to meet her gaze when she looked at him sharply. If there were a way to retrieve those words, he would have done so. Why did he open his big mouth?_

 _"_ _Like someone else's voice? Like when Cloud was hearing Sephiroth?"_

 _Naturally she would make_ that _connection. It wasn't quite like Cloud's situation; at least, he didn't think so. "_ _ **More like hearing your own voice telling you things**_ _."_

 _"_ _Mm-hmm, what kinds of things is it telling you?"_

 _"_ _ **What? No, not me. Just… hypothetically, if someone did hear a voice – if it told them to be nice and not do bad things**_ _." This was stupid. Why did he think Tifa would have any answers for him anyway?_

 _"_ _You mean… like a conscience?"_

 _He had never thought of_ that _. A conscience? His kind didn't have any such thing._

 _What an annoying concept._

 _But it fit… the voice in his head bossing him around._

 _If one mysteriously acquired a conscience, was there a way to get rid of it?_

 _"_ _It's not a bad thing, Chaos. For 'whomever' you were speaking about, of course."_

 _How did this happen to him? What had he done to deserve something as terrible as a conscience?_

 _"_ _ **Hnn… I blame Vincent**_ _."_

 _With that, he launched into the air from the rooftop, a liberty he rarely afforded himself, and opened his wings wide to catch the night breeze._

 _A conscience, indeed._

Chaos finished the last bite of cinnamon roll and lay down to sleep for the day.

Him? A conscience? Ludicrous.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **If you are interested in such details, the song Tifa plays here and in Chapter 2 is "Tifa's Theme" which you can listen to on Youtube if you are so inclined.**

 **Special thanks to consistent reviewer The Moss Stomper (please take a moment to look up her excellent story The Unwelcome Guest) and new guest reviewer Applehat. You have no idea how much encouragement I derive from reviews. It's nice to know that there are people who find this unique companionship interesting even though it is not the run of the mill.**

 **My gratitude as well to ScribeofRhapsody (if you have not read her fic Shattered Act I, you are missing out) and ScribeofRED (check out her one-shot from the Thunderbird fandom) for their beta work on C & K.**

 **Let me reiterate that I have no rights to Final Fantasy. However, no infringement is intended by my use of FF characters and situations, merely my own amusement and hopefully yours as well.**

 **~ VendettaSmiles~**

 **10/09/15**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Kadaj quickened his pace as they approached the village, its lights a beacon in the darkness that had fallen abruptly across the grasslands. Tonight was a rare treat. Given the distance between their objectives and the amount of gil they had acquired on this mission, the pair had agreed to spend a night at an inn – with real beds. That would be a relief after this latest trip to the Chocobo Farm where they had slept in the stalls. His skin still itched in places where the straw had touched him, not to mention the nuisance of the birds themselves. Truly, if he never saw one of those overgrown chickens again, it would be too soon.

The town was unremarkable, its streets indistinguishable from any number of other streets in any number of the other small towns that dotted the Continent. Scanning the signs that identified each of the buildings along the main road through town, Kadaj found that there was only one inn, and it looked like it had seen better days. He laid his baggage down and issued the guard hound a soft command to "stay" before entering the building.

The long-faced desk clerk eyed Kadaj with mild suspicion before pushing a ledger across the counter in his direction. Chaos stood silently behind him with his cowl once again pulled up to hide his unusual appearance, despite the warmth of the evening.

"Sign your names here. Payment in advance. No illegal activities. You break anything, you pay for it. If you have chocobos, they can stay in the stable at no extra charge." The clerk sounded like he had repeated this same litany a million times. He probably had.

Kadaj shook his head in regards to chocobos and needing the stable. He jotted _K. Dodge_ and _E. N. Tropy_ in the ledger. No sense in leaving a paper trail. Even if they were working to be respectable, law-abiding citizens, there were still people who could have malevolent or vengeful intentions towards them.

"Any pets?" The inn clerk sounded bored.

"Uh, one?"

"What kind?"

Kadaj hesitated. Guard hounds weren't exactly the norm, and people tended to give them an even wider berth now that there was a guard hound pacing along in their company – even if she wasn't yet fully grown. He didn't want to be denied a happily anticipated night's lodging on account of the guard hound. He glanced at Chaos and back at clerk.

"Dog," he replied at the same time Chaos stated, " **Cat**." The clerk's bored look disappeared, replaced again with suspicion.

"Uh, that is… our dog that _thinks_ she's a cat," Kadaj covered with an awkward laugh.

"Pet's name?"

"Uh, Fluffy?" That sounded pretty non-threatening, didn't it?

"Hmm. Room 203. Top of the stairs and on your right." The clerk seemed to have accepted their story and returned to bored mode.

The pair climbed the stairs and found their room. It was nothing special, but would beat sleeping on the ground. An exterior door led to a shared balcony and stairs, which Kadaj descended in order to furtively fetch their baggage, along with the half-grown guard hound that had been keeping their things safe.

" **Fluffy**?"

Kadaj was pretty sure there was a note of amusement in Chaos' voice. It was hard to tell with Chaos, but he was pretty sure. "It got us a room, didn't it?"

" **Hnn… So, does she have a name**?"

Kadaj had never thought about it. She was always just "the guard hound" or "that pup." She was part of their group now, though, so she deserved a name. As he looked at her, his mind was filled with all she had come to mean to him in the short time they had been together. Honestly, he would feel lost without her at his side. She had been the catalyst that first allowed him to consider the possibility his brothers might _not_ be alive. He and she were both pseudo-monsters set loose in a world that would never fully accept them as anything else. Everything of value had been stripped from them. In a strange way, she was almost an extension of himself.

She gazed back at him and tilted her head to match his, her eyes gleaming.

"Her name is Vendetta." He gave her ears a rub as he settled onto one of the twin beds and kicked off his boots.

The guard hound chuffed her approval and leapt onto the bed beside him. What might work for smaller pets didn't necessarily hold true for a hundred-plus pound guard hound, and he found himself wedged uncomfortably close to the wall. He supposed he should have made her get off, but instead he shifted into a more accommodating position and pulled the pillow under his head while stroking her midnight fur.

The conversation with the inn clerk had prompted some disquieting thoughts, and his mind seemed intent on mulling them over. It was easier during the day, when there were monsters to slay, miles to walk, and daylight shining brightly down, but times like these were the times when doubts assailed him with more ferocity than any Bahamut ever could.

His eyes wandered to the wall, seeking distraction. The place looked like it had not been painted in a few decades – or cleaned, for that matter. Bits of miscellaneous substances stained spots on the walls, and some writing was scratched into the paint in one place just above eye-level.

 _My soul, corrupted by vengeance_

 _Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey_

 _In my own salvation, and your eternal slumber._

How long ago had the lines been etched there in ragged letters, and what hand had committed the act? The words didn't entirely make sense, but they lingered in his mind. His eyes tracked the poem from its end back to the top.

 _Salvation._ What did that even mean?

 _Vengeance_. If it turned out he _was_ alone in the world, that Loz and Yazoo were lost to him, would vengeance be his new – his _sole_ – purpose?

 _Corrupted_. His fingers traced over the word as he read it again. Was that the inevitable outcome for him? Was he destined to only ever be the tainted remnant of a darkened and destructive soul?

 _My soul_. Could that word even be applied to him – to the one everyone still saw as a monster?

Across the room, Chaos extinguished the light, and Kadaj heard the springs of the other bed groan under the weight of the winged being.

Turning his back on the wall and its cryptic message, he allowed his hand to rest on Vendetta's rhythmically rising and falling chest. The faint hint of pine enveloped him. Gently, his fingers dug into the warmth of her coat as a single droplet of moisture traced its way down his cheek in the darkness.

 _Don't cry, Loz…_

 _Don't cry, Yazoo…_

* * *

For having slept in the relatively accommodating confines of an inn – albeit a less than luxurious one – the whelp seemed inexplicably glum this morning. Chaos had covertly watched him as they packed their possessions and checked out of the inn. What had gotten into the kid's head? Uncertainty was building in him. How was he to deal with this sudden mood shift in the silver-haired teen? Not that it was _his_ responsibility to cheer the boy up; he just didn't want to have the kid's bad mood ruining his day, was all.

How did one go about cheering up a moody teen, anyway? None of the ideas that came to mind seemed plausible. He didn't know any jokes. Sure, he could try to get the kid to talk, but even if he was successful – which seemed unlikely – then he would just have to listen to the boy's problems. Ugh, it wasn't like he was a therapist or anything. He wasn't good at this kind of thing.

At this point, _any_ mood would be better than the listlessness he was seeing.

Well, if there was a mood _he_ was good at eliciting, it was anger...

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad idea after all? The kid couldn't be morose and enraged at the same time, could he?

Two topics were sure to generate a reaction from the whelp. He would try the lesser of them first. " **Any news on your brothers**?"

If possible, the boy's shoulders hunched further as he silently shook his head. Well, that didn't go as planned. He just needed to push a little harder, maybe. " **Perhaps you should give up carrying Velvet Whatsit and Dual Thingabob around, then. After all, their weapons are just dead weight if you're never going to find them anyway**."

His prodding should have generated the usual explosive reaction, but instead the kid just looked more dejected than ever. _Okay_ … time to bring out the big guns.

" **How about Mother? Any word from that psycho**?" There, that would surely do the trick.

The boy turned murderous cyan eyes on him. "If you know what's good for you, you will _shut up_ right now."

Yep, seemed to be working. " **Or what? You'll bring back Sephiroth? That didn't work out so well last time, did it**?"

The kid launched himself at Chaos, pummeling him with both hands and shrieking in that high voice he used when angry. Well, at least he wasn't using Souba, thanks for small blessings – that is, if he believed in such things. Nevertheless, the boy was stronger than he looked, and Chaos' chest was starting to hurt and his lip was bleeding by the time the teen slumped to the ground a few minutes later. It was a good thing he stopped when he did – Chaos' patience could only go so far.

Chaos wiped the blood from his lip. This had better have worked.

After a moment, Chaos extended his hand into the boy's space. The teen knocked it away, but got up anyway, his silver locks hiding his face.

" **Feel better**?"

"Don't quit your day job."

But behind the anger, the kid did sound a tad perkier.

 _Good_. The remnant needed to carry his own weight, and he certainly wasn't good for much when he was moping around.

* * *

 **Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the inclusion of Loveless.**

 **I feel I should perhaps explain a little about Vendetta's name and it's relation to my own pen name. I promise Vendetta is not a Mary Sue stand in for me, lol. On the contrary, the progression of events runs more like this: development of the OC character the guard hound (originally a male), naming the guard hound after Vendetta my cat, and then selecting a pen name which was based on my cat and her cameo in this story (you can find a picture of the original Vendetta in my profile if you are so inclined).**

 **I am overwhelmed with joy at the views, follows, favorites, and reviews. Welcome Stormblade, ScreamingViking, Wingless! And of course many many thanks to the Scribes and Stompy. You all are much too kind. Also, as kind as you are, I think I should remind you that I am happy to accept constructive criticism as well, so don't be shy about letting me know where you would like to see improvement.**

 **Regards,**

 **~ Vendetta ~**

 **10/23/15**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Kadaj stepped off the road to Edge for a moment to pry a pebble out of the tread of his boot. Vendetta was off in the brush somewhere scaring up prey. Chaos halted beside him and drank from his canteen, watching with no real interest as Kadaj dislodged the stone with his knife.

The winged being was still a mystery to him. Every time Kadaj thought he understood him, Chaos moved in some new, incomprehensible direction that left him confused all over again. Even more bewildering and disorienting, the monster seemed to have an uncanny ability to read him. _He_ was accustomed to being one step ahead of everyone else, not the other way around. Of course, that was when Jenova was pulling the strings. He did not miss _her_ – and certainly did not miss being used like a puppet. But he did miss the _certainty_ ; he missed the perfect clarity and the lack of doubt. Now, everything seemed murky, like he was stumbling in the dark.

When Chaos had started taunting him earlier, it had seemed like he was just trying to pick a fight. Angered by the persistent jibes, Kadaj had lashed out at him. Now, though, he questioned the monster's true motives. Had his intent been something other than simply eliciting a reaction? If so, his companion was more complex than he had believed.

Having finished removing the troublesome stone, Kadaj wiped his face with the pale blue cloth he wore at his neck. He had changed his black leather outfit for a plain dark t-shirt on the return trip, as he often did whenever he and Chaos were alone and now that the temperatures were warmer. He preferred to reserve his leather for active escort duty or other occasions when they were especially likely to encounter monsters, such as when they traveled past old Mako reactor sites. It provided the best protection in a fight, even if it was on the warm side for this weather. He also found that the leather intimidated people – a plus when acting as guards. But in peaceful moments like this, the t-shirt was more comfortable.

Having re-secured his neck cloth and hearing the sound of grass parting some distance away, Kadaj glanced up, expecting to see Vendetta returning with whatever prey she had been stalking. He was startled to see not one but three guard hounds bearing down on them. Dark blue bodies caught the sunlight and red tentacles whipped behind them. White teeth glinted, bared to the gums. Chaos took a fighting stance while Kadaj stood and drew Souba.

From behind them the sound of another beast approached. Turning to put his back to Chaos in preparation to face a new threat, Kadaj saw it was Vendetta returning. _Good_ , even odds – one for each of them. They shouldn't have any problem dispatching the three feral guard hounds. On that thought, he turned back to face their attackers.

Vendetta ran past them to confront the guard hounds, a vision of supple fluidity. Chaos and Kadaj moved forward more slowly to join the clash and provide backup. As the black and white guard hound neared the three newcomers, she slowed, putting her nose in the air to better catch their scent. Kadaj knew her well enough to interpret her behaviors with precision. Confusion drew her to a halt as she tried to process the new smell.

Time slowed as he realized what was happening. They had not encountered guard hounds again since acquiring Vendetta. She would be registering the scent of guard hounds as familiar. Kadaj cried out in dismay as he saw he was right. The young guard hound, responding to a repressed pack instinct, came to an abrupt halt and offered a submissive pose and appeasing whine to the newcomers now mere feet away.

A cold hand of fear grasped Kadaj's heart as he saw Vendetta submit to the feral monsters. Not sharing in her sense of familiarity and recognition, the first tore into her exposed underside as the other two bounded past to engage Chaos and Kadaj. Kadaj registered red blood pouring from his tentacled companion before having to focus all of his attention on engaging the attacking guard hound.

Kadaj deflected the leaping body of the guard hound by turning to the side and catching its body with a sweeping kick. He quickly followed up with a fatal plunge of Souba to the creature's heart. A quick glance to the left showed that Chaos had dispatched his guard hound as well and was engaging the third. Knowing a guard hound was no match for Chaos, Kadaj sprinted to Vendetta's side.

Blood mingled with the foamy saliva of the beast on Vendetta's dark side, spilling down onto the ground beneath her. The white of her underbelly had all but disappeared in red. _So much blood_. Kadaj was used to seeing blood, but it had never been blood that _mattered_. A quick assessment showed gashes and punctures along her neck and shoulders, but by far the most serious wound was on her abdomen where the attacking guard hound had seized her and torn the flesh severely. He knew first aid. He _should_ know what to do to slow the blood loss, but he couldn't think.

 _No, no, no_. He _couldn't_ lose Vendetta.

Her eyes were glossy with pain. "No you don't, girl," Kadaj insisted as he stoked the side of her head where her whiskers bristled. Pulling his shirt over his head, he pressed it firmly against the wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood. He mentally cursed the fact the neither he nor Chaos could wield Materia. Vendetta needed medical attention and _fast_.

Chaos, having completed his grisly task, appeared at Kadaj's side.

"We have to get her to a medical facility." Kadaj looked at Chaos' wings speculatively.

" **Sorry, kid. She must weigh close to 150 pounds. Even I can't fly that much weight, especially not all the way back to Edge. My wings aren't built for that kind of endurance**."The demon did seem apologetic, if that were even possible.

 _Think, think,_ Kadaj mentally admonished himself. _We need a helicopter._ Unfortunately, those were not exactly in ready supply. Three places had helicopters at their disposal: the WRO, Shinra, and the NeoMidgar news station. The news station was out – no way was he going to be able to convince them to come and airlift a giant beast back to the city.

Kadaj pulled his cell phone out, for the first time grateful to Vincent for giving it to him. His fingers hesitated over the preprogrammed numbers, then moved to the bottom of the list and connected the call.

"Who is this and how did you get this number?" an evenly modulated voice demanded.

"Rufus, it's Kadaj. I need a favor."

"Really?" The question was accompanied by an amused chuckle. "I didn't realize we were on a favor-granting basis."

"I'm serious. I need a helicopter on the outskirts of Kalm – with a medic."

Kadaj was sure his grim tone conveyed his urgency, but Rufus wasn't ready to comply so easily. "It'll cost you."

"I don't care. Get the chopper here. I am sending you our coordinates now."

"We'll talk soon." The call disconnected.

Kadaj sent the coordinates. Then there was nothing to do but wait. The minutes seemed to drag by at an excruciatingly slow pace as Kadaj stroked Vendetta and tried to keep her as calm as possible. For once he was glad Chaos was not the talkative, reassuring type. He didn't think he could have borne false encouragement. The truth lay bare before him: Vendetta could die before the helicopter even arrived, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

The beat of the propellers gave notice of the helicopter's approach long before its sleek black form could be seen. _This_ was why he had called Rufus. Any other option would have taken too long, but Rufus must have managed to get the chopper in the air almost immediately after his call. Vendetta was still breathing, and the chopper was growing larger by the second, the red Shinra logo on its metallic side proudly heralding its allegiance.

The grass flattened beneath the helicopter as it came to rest twenty feet from them, and several figures jumped out.

Kadaj shuffled back to let the one in the white lab coat examine Vendetta. Her eyes were detached and her movements calmly efficient. She stabilized the guard hound with a Cure Materia before instructing the others on securing her to a stretcher and moving her to the helicopter. If the medic was fazed by finding her patient to be an enormous dog-beast, she covered it well. But then again, she worked for Shinra.

"Will she be okay?" Kadaj asked anxiously.

"Should be. Looks like we got here just in time. We will need to transport her to Edge and perform a few more procedures, but the Cure Materia stopped the bleeding, which is the important thing. We'll keep her sedated for the flight back to Edge."

Kadaj ducked low as they moved under the spinning blades and boarded the chopper. His eyes went first to the guard hound in the open bay. She took up most of the space and were it not for the blood still caking her black fur and making it stand at odd angles, she looked as though she might have been merely sleeping.

Moving to her side and ascertaining that she was still breathing regularly, he allowed his eyes to roam the remainder of the aircraft's interior. The space was more crowded than he would have expected. The doctor had entered the helicopter before him along with the two men who had helped move the stretcher. Chaos had come in behind him, briefly making the vehicle cant to one side with his added weight.

Across from Kadaj sat the ex-president himself. Or was he still president? Kadaj realized he had no idea what the current structure of the company was or even if Shinra Co. still existed. Either way, Rufus Shinra was a force to be reckoned with, commanding both power _and_ money. Kadaj had not expected Rufus to be aboard the chopper. Unbidden, the memory of his last encounter with the man came to mind. His words as he revealed Jenova's remains still cut to the quick: _A good son would have known._

In the cockpit, he recognized both the pilot and co-pilot – formerly unwilling guests of his in what now seemed like another lifetime. The Wutainese man gave no sign of recognition, coldly professional. The blonde, on the other hand, had turned in her seat to glare back at him. Large flight muffs covered her ears, but nothing covered her disgust for him. A subtle movement from her Turk counterpart made her swing forward in her seat again. There was no doubt in his mind, however, that her thoughts were still entirely focused on him.

In the weeks he had been back from the Lifestream, he had not considered these two. They simply had not crossed his mind. Now, faced with the female Turk's animosity, he recalled in vivid detail the capture and torture of Shinra's elite. It had not been pretty. At the time, it had been insignificant – the only thing that had mattered was finding Jenova. All actions in that direction had been justifiable. Granted, the Turks were not the most innocent of individuals themselves, but what the brothers had done to them…

In the light of everything that had happened to him since, and in the absence of Jenova, he had to admit what he and his brothers had wrought against these Turks was unthinkable… _monstrous_. It was amazing the two had survived after they were mysteriously rescued.

He did not want the Turks here. He did not want the odd sense of shame that he felt upon seeing them.

His gaze returned to the guard hound where his hand gently caressed her neck. No, he did not want to be confined in this small space with Rufus and the Turks, but if it saved Vendetta, he would not count the cost to himself. A cost of which he still didn't know the sum. _It'll cost you,_ Rufus had said. _I don't care,_ he had replied.

Not long after the helicopter had lifted and spun its nose back in the direction of Edge, the white clad businessman leaned in closer to him, his smooth skin unmarked by traces of the geostigma. He spoke, his evenly modulated voice barely audible above the steady beat of the chopper blades. "You may not know this, but I had a guard hound too, once: Dark Nation." His mask seemed to slip for a moment, revealing a deep pathos. _Or was that the mask?_ The blond reached down further to stroke the guard hound, careful not to soil his white sleeve with her blood.

Kadaj had not known Rufus had owned a guard hound, nor was he sure why the he was telling him now.

"They used to say that I never bled and never cried… maybe they still do. That's not strictly true though. Wasn't true even then – I wept when Dark Nation died… that and one other time. Dark Nation is the one point Cloud and I are not entirely even on… but that's water under the bridge."

Their eyes met over the unconscious body of the sedated guard hound. Why was Rufus telling him these things? Was the man truly sympathetic? This man who had sent his Turks to eliminate Kadaj just month and a half prior? Or was this a manipulative play on his emotions? It was impossible to tell with the indecipherable former president. The cunning man was able to convey enough sincerity to make anyone want to believe him, even knowing firsthand his history of deceit. Rufus had held Jenova on his lap, and Kadaj had not discerned his lie. _A good son would have known._

Kadaj glanced away and out through the chopper window. Already Edge was coming into view.

* * *

*Ducks thrown objects*

Just remember that I could have left things on a worse cliff-hanger.

A little behind the scenes C & K trivia: This was actually one of the first two chapters ever written for C & K. It has been added to and edited, but this (along with the first chapter) was the first scene that I sat down to write and see what happened.

Many thanks to last chapters reviewers: CrimsonWing, Stompy, and Luna.

~ Vendetta ~

11/06/15


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The whelp had stayed at the side of his guard hound all through her unloading at the Edge medical facility and her treatments there. Chaos had to give the boy credit for one thing: when he gave his loyalty – whether to alien or beast – he gave it wholeheartedly and without reservation. He only wondered if the kid knew what he had gotten himself into with Rufus Shinra.

The teen had been reluctant to leave the guard hound when they were summoned to meet with Shinra, but there was no point in putting it off any longer. The kid had retrieved his black leather clothing from their packs – his t-shirt, soaked in guard hound blood, was beyond salvaging. Now, clean and metaphorically dressed for battle, the whelp waited in a small conference room in the medical facility. Waited, because Shinra had arranged it that way, he had no doubt. Nothing happened in Rufus' domain that wasn't by design. Chaos wasn't sure what kind of support he could lend, but if the kid could be loyal to his pet, well, Chaos could be to _his_ as well.

The door swung open to admit Rufus Shinra, flanked by two dark-suited men. Turks – were they there for protection or intimidation? In contrast to the dark suits of his Turks, Shinra wore a white suit over a dark dress shirt. So like the man himself, Chaos reflected – squeaky clean and untouchable on the outside, but with dark secrets concealed underneath.

Chaos watched the two young men as they observed each other: each evaluating his opponent, seeking a weakness. Perhaps he had been playing too much chess with the tadpole, but he was struck by the similarities between the two. There was even a symmetry in their attire, both having a flair for the dramatic. Like two chess kings standing in opposition – Rufus' ivory pitted against Kadaj's ebony.

No, that wasn't quite it – they weren't like kings, limited to just a few moves. No… gender aside, they resembled two chess queens: powerful, unpredictable, and uninhibited. The remnant was the less confident, although he disguised his uneasiness as well as ever, his silver hair a shield over his emotions.

It was ivory's move, but Chaos _always_ played black. He wouldn't count the teen out of this game yet – they were a long way from checkmate.

"I hear the guard hound is expected to make a full recovery." The quiet, cultured voice held a thread of power. Soft-spoken, no doubt, because its owner was used to having everyone stop to listen to him, not out of any innate gentleness or timidity.

"I suppose you want me on my knees thanking you," Kadaj replied defensively.

"We're both businessmen here. No need for dramatics." Rufus turned slightly, steepling his fingers. "Now, about the price…"

" **When you're dealing with the devil, the price is always your soul**."

"Perhaps we might be more comfortable speaking privately?" Rufus held Kadaj's eyes with his own as he ignored Chaos' comment.

"Chaos stays. You can dismiss the Turks, if that would make you more comfortable, _sir._ "

Chaos smirked at Kadaj's sarcasm. _Interesting_ , seemed the whelp didn't have much trust for the ex-president. Or was it that he didn't trust himself alone with Shinra?

"That won't be necessary." The white-clad mogul sat and exchanged the steepling of his fingers for a two fingered tapping on the armrest of his chair. "Please, sit."

Kadaj remained standing. "What is it you want, President Shinra? Oh, or is that title outdated? I have been out of the loop for a while, you may have heard. Have you upgraded to 'His Imperial Majesty' yet?" The cunning gleam in his eyes wasn't entirely concealed by the silver curtain of hair.

"If you must have a title, I prefer… philanthropist. As to what I want, actually, _you_ are exactly what I want. We are looking to hire a little… muscle. My sources tell me this is right up your alley."

" **Isn't that what your Turks are for? Your dirty work**?" Chaos' comment cast a shadow across the usually impenetrable visage of the businessman. He had hit the mark there. His experiences within Vincent's mind gave him a very accurate picture of what the Turk profession entailed.

"But, _sir,_ surely you would not consider one as young as _I_ for a position amongst your illustrious Turks?"

 _Ha!_ Sometimes he loved the boy's cheek. The Shinra Company of old was well-known for recruiting mere children, often orphans, for their Turk program. If anything, the whelp was past the age for Turk recruitment.

The two fingers ceased their tapping. "That isn't exactly what I had in mind. What I have for you is one simple assignment." He nodded at one of the Turks who deposited a plain manila folder on the table. Rufus gave the file a nudge in the direction of Kadaj. "A small task really: to clean up a minor mess of the Shinra Company's making. All we want in the end is to rebuild our world, to repair the damage that's been done."

Kadaj flipped the folder open, revealing a photo of a man, his muscled chest bare, shoulder-length white hair standing at odd angles. "Clean up a Shinra mess… you mean like how you sent your Turks for me?" There was dangerous gleam in the teen's eye, and Chaos was reminded once again that this was no ordinary youth, but a remnant of Sephiroth.

"Ah, well, let us think of that as a little… misunderstanding, shall we?"

Kadaj's sound of disbelief echoed Chaos' own internal response.

"Think of it as an… opportunity, then. You don't approve of my Turks' methods? Invent your own. I am not saying you have to terminate him. If you can bring him in alive, that will be acceptable, but he can't be allowed to roam free. He's dangerous. And do remember, you're the one who called me, not the other way around."

"Alive, huh?"

"Take the folder, read through it. Your hound won't be ready to leave for another day. Have an answer for me by then." Rufus stood and moved to the door, where he halted again. "We would, of course, pay all of your expenses. We might also be able assist in your… _other_ search." Without waiting for a reaction, the man exited the small room with his Turks flanking him.

Chaos studied the youth as he flipped through the file. He had no interest in becoming entangled in Rufus' web. The Shinra boy had a reputation for playing the long game, and his true motives were anyone's guess. But now it looked like he wouldn't have much choice: the whelp was already knee deep in the matter, and if Chaos didn't want his stray to become Rufus' kept pet, his best bet was to help resolve the situation as quickly as possible. It wouldn't be easy, though. Weiss had been the head of the Tsviets, the mastermind of Deepground. Defeating him had been a challenge for even the highly experienced Valentine.

Yep, looked like he would be coming to the whelp's rescue yet again.

* * *

Kadaj flipped the file closed and let his fingers drum a rhythm on it as he thought. The file was thin, but contained an impressive amount of detail, no doubt courtesy primarily of the Turks. Chaos' disclosure of his – or rather Valentine's – experiences with the massive Tsviet had further fleshed out the situation. He hadn't realized how close to the truth he was hitting with his remark on the similarity between the Turks attacking him and Shinra sending him after Weiss. _Cleaning up Shinra's messes._ That's how Rufus saw it. But, like himself, Weiss hadn't been entirely in control of himself when he sought to destroy the Planet. That had been Hojo's consciousness working through him – just like Jenova's will had fueled Kadaj's actions.

As he reviewed the situation, three points rose to the surface. First, he owed Shinra for Vendetta's rescue; there was no question of that, much as he hated the fact. Secondly, he had wanted a chance to redeem himself, and what better way than bringing this warrior back from the brink? Finally, Weiss was in danger of being eradicated without a second chance, without the second chance Kadaj had been given. Maybe he could accomplish three things in one? If he could turn Weiss around and bring him in peacefully, he would be even with Shinra. He would be doing a good deed. And, perhaps, he might find a kindred spirit in Weiss, a brother without all the history he had with Cloud, a brother who would be eternally grateful to Kadaj for saving him.

Chaos had warned him against taking Weiss lightly, but that wasn't what this was. This was seizing an opportunity to set things right. Chaos couldn't see it because he had fought against a version of Weiss that was controlled by Hojo, and Hojo would always be Chaos and Vincent's mortal enemy. Kadaj had never met the maniacal Shinra scientist and was glad he was dead. He refused, however, to let Hojo's actions taint him against Weiss.

No, Weiss _could_ be salvaged.

Rufus' parting comment had also raised new hope. With the resources of Shinra at his disposal, perhaps he could locate Yazoo and Loz after all…

If all went according to plan, he might have to thank Rufus when this was all over, when Yazoo, Loz, and Weiss were all joined in brotherhood with him.

* * *

A warm welcome to new followers Yavin and Tezwrites! Also, I want to thank last chapter's reviewers Viking and Luna.

Wishing you all a very happy Thanksgiving! Or if you live in a country where that's not celebrated at this time, a happy fall. Or, if you live in the other hemisphere and its not fall, then a very happy week.

Vendetta

11/20/15


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

The whelp had agreed to Shinra's terms and taken the assignment of locating Weiss. No surprise there. Rufus knew how to pull strings like a master puppeteer. His closing offer to the boy had been a stroke of genius, not that Chaos would ever vocalize that sentiment.

Besides paying the debt owed for the helicopter and medical assistance, the kid seemed almost eager to take on the challenge of bringing in the Tsviet alive. Hopefully he wasn't developing some kind of hero complex. Chaos had been around long enough to know that it never ended well when monsters and villains tried to make heroes of themselves. _Ha_ , where had defeating Omega gotten _him_? Monsters were monsters – end of story. _He_ should know.

Chaos was encouraged that the boy had declined Rufus' offer of an escort back to their living quarters. It was one thing to take the job and quite another to think Shinra was any kind of friend.

The overgrown housecat was getting around okay but would no doubt be tired by the time they arrived at the warehouse. Her wounds were healed over, with only raised, jagged white lines of scarring to show where they had been – whatever Shinra's many faults might be, medical care wasn't one of them. It would, however, take a while for her full strength to return and the fur to grow back where it had been shaved away from the wounds, giving the guard hound an odd patchwork look.

Turning the last corner before the warehouse, they found the usually empty street teeming with activity. _Now what?_ At the front of the warehouse, the kid's hammock lay where it had been unceremoniously dumped on the ground. He could only assume that the piles around it were their other possessions from within the warehouse.

 _Someone was going to pay_. Chaos scanned the scene for someone in charge. Most of the men appeared to be workmen dressed in coveralls. Approaching one that was distinguished from all the other workers by his possession of a clipboard, Chaos sought answers.

" **What's going on here**?" He deliberately let his anger come through his voice in a threatening growl.

The man with the clipboard appeared appropriately cowed by Chaos' visage and voice. He gestured to a notice in brightly colored paper posted on the warehouse wall.

Ripping it free, Chaos read: _By order of the WRO… blah, blah, blah… reclaimed property… blah, blah, blah… squatters ordered to vacate immediately… blah, blah, blah…_

 _Squatters?_ Just wait until he got his hands on Reeve. He was sorely tempted to take his anger out on the workmen, but… well, the guard hound most likely needed a rest. Not that he was soft on the cat, he just didn't want to have to carry her if she collapsed in the street before they arrived somewhere safe. And he certainly wasn't relenting on account of the Inner Voice. Nope, that had nothing to do with it at all.

Turning to his companions, Chaos found a rosy hue was creeping its way up the remnant's face, a sure sign his temper was about to overflow its banks. How Valentine would laugh to hear that _he_ was playing the voice of reason and restraint. He placed a hand on the teen's arm, only realizing that might be a mistake when the boy turned his rage-filled gaze on _him_.

 _Oh no, not going to happen._

Fortunately, a gesture towards the flagging guard hound brought the boy back around and he nodded, accepting that getting her settled took precedence over the need to lash out in defense of their territory.

"I know somewhere we can go for her to rest until we get this sorted out," the remnant said as he picked up some of his things that had been removed from the warehouse.

* * *

Kadaj hesitated at the door to Johnny's Heaven. He hadn't been back since eavesdropping on Cloud's conversation with Reeve. More to the point, he hadn't mended any bridges after his parting remark to the redheaded barkeeper. But Vendetta needed a place to rest and the warehouse was out, so this was the next best option. How many favors was he going to end up owing before this week was over?

Well, the situation wasn't going to change for putting it off. Taking a breath, he held the door open for the guard hound, who entered ahead of him as if she owned the place. Chaos had elected to leave them in favor of going wherever it was he disappeared to, so Kadaj let the door fall quietly into place behind him.

The bartender was occupied with another customer and had his back to the door, so Kadaj stood and let his eyes adjust to the inner dimness before Johnny turned and saw them. He had a hard time meeting the bartender's eyes and studied one of the barstools intently.

Johnny took several steps towards them before making a sound. Then, "Oh, honey, what has he _done_ to you?"

Kadaj whipped his head around to find Johnny on his knees addressing the guard hound with his face tilted up to hers. The need to justify and explain coursed through him, but he pushed it down as he watched the redhead sweet-talk his guard hound and examine her scars. He refrained from commenting as the man led her behind the bar and made her a bed out of material that was probably not intended for such low use. He was certain Vendetta winked at him over her shoulder as she milked the barkeeper for all it was worth. He followed them, but took his customary seat at the bar rather than trespass beyond it. Finally, the guard hound was settled and there was nothing to stall the two men any further.

Johnny picked up a suspiciously sparkling glass and began scrubbing it with a level of attention that would have suggested the outcome of Meteorfall rested on its cleanliness. Kadaj adjusted the leather on his sleeve. At the time, he had been thinking it would be a quick trip back to the warehouse before settling in to rest from the intense events of the past couple days. Instead, he had endured eviction and now ended up here, facing a bartender who had never been anything but friendly to him. A bartender whose friendship he had returned with deceit and unkindness.

He adjusted his other sleeve.

"Look, Johnny…" Why were the words so hard to find? No, that wasn't it – he knew the words he needed to say, he just had never said them before – not to anyone. "Look," he started again, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kept things from you."

"You mean, like being the one responsible for nearly destroying the city? I don't know, maybe nearly destroying _the Planet_? Or for getting me to harbor a fugitive? You _know_ I have customers from the WRO and Shinra, right? Do you _know_ how much trouble you could have gotten me into just by being here?"

"Johnny, I know. I'm trying to apologize, okay?"

"But that's not the worst of it." Johnny gave his attention to furiously polishing away an invisible spot from the glass in his hands. "I trusted you. I considered you a _friend_."

"Don't you get it?" Now Kadaj was starting to get angry. He was pretty sure that wasn't supposed to be part of apologizing, but the redhead wasn't making it easy. "That's precisely why I couldn't tell you anything! How long would you have been my _friend_ if you had known?"

"You didn't give me the chance."

"Well, I'm sorry!" That came out more abruptly than he intended, but what could he do if the man wouldn't accept his apology? Was that his fault? He was holding up his end in apologizing to the bartender, it wasn't his fault if Johnny didn't do his part.

"Just… don't do it again. Let _me_ be the judge of what I can handle and what I can't." One red lock of hair escaped from his loose ponytail and framed his face as he finally looked at Kadaj. "So, what happened to the pup?"

Kadaj had a sudden suspicion that Johnny might not have been willing to patch things up as quickly if he weren't burning with curiosity over Vendetta's condition. He was amazed again at the barkeeper's easy acceptance of the guard hound. Perhaps there was yet hope for their friendship – for him and this man who so readily accepted a monster into his world. If the story of Vendetta's injury and Shinra's involvement was the price for restoring their relationship – and for a night or two's lodging, hopefully – then it was an acceptable bargain.

Johnny filled the glass he had been relentlessly cleaning and handed it over. The glass was cool and smooth against his skin as Kadaj began relating the preceding events. Once started, the words flowed out of him almost without volition. It was true what they said about bartenders: Johnny was a good listener.

* * *

Many thanks to Stompy and Luna for their reviews once again!

~ Vendetta ~

12/04/15


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Chaos glanced up at the concrete angel overhead and down at the directions again. This was the place, all right. He had said it before, and circumstances hadn't changed his view at all: fate had a nasty sense of humor. He had traipsed all over Edge visiting various cubby holes and hovels that landlords liked to call "rentals." Apparently, the large population displaced from Midgar and the fast pace at which Edge was thrown together wasn't a good combination for quality affordable rental housing. In retrospect, he was a bit amazed that their warehouse lair had remained empty and undisturbed for as long as it had.

This was the last place on his list to look at and – according to the landlord he had obtained directions from – the most promising. Following the series of left and right turns scrawled on the paper in front of him, he had not paid much attention to the location until he happened to glance up and see the statue above him.

What were the odds that the only tolerable rental available would happen to be on the same street as Seventh Heaven? Yep, the fates had a grudge against him for sure.

Well, he might as well take a look at the place. Taking one of the keys the landlord had provided, he inserted it in the lock and turned the knob.

What kind of person let a potential tenant take the keys and look at an apartment unsupervised, anyway? And given his appearance? Sure, the people of Edge had seen some pretty odd things in their time, but a couple of the landlords had outright refused to speak with him, let alone trust him with a key. The old man, though, had dropped the keys carelessly from his prosthetic hand into Chaos' golden gauntlet with a faint _clink_.

Perhaps the old man was senile… although he hadn't seemed it. He just made that remark about being a good judge of character and wrote out the directions without a second glance at Chaos' glowing eyes, pointed teeth, or furled wings. That was the second time someone had commented on being a good judge of character in relation to accepting him.

The water that had cured the geostigma must have addled people's brains. Yeah, that would explain it.

In any case, old man Verdot might turn out to be an all right landlord if the living quarters checked out, despite the apartment being in such close proximity to the AVALANCHE base. Something about the man seemed vaguely familiar – probably some recollection he had sifted from Valentine's mind. Rummaging around in someone else's memories wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and he was never good with names, so it wasn't surprising the name Verdot didn't ring a bell. Most importantly though, the vague familiarity, whatever it was, didn't trigger any red flags, and he had learned to rely heavily on his instincts.

Chaos climbed the steep communal stairs leading to the available living quarters and fit the second key in the inner door. The smell that greeted him as it swung open surprised him. He hadn't consciously expected anything in particular, but the last dozen places he had toured smelled either of old socks, mold, or stale pizza. How such recently constructed places could acquire such foul smells in just a few years' time was beyond him. This apartment, however, smelled fresh and carried the light scent of lemongrass. Verdot had mentioned a daughter; she must be the one responsible for the vase full of the stuff on the table by the wall. He was glad it wasn't flowers. He had smelled enough of _those_ while in the Lifesteam with Aerith.

Chaos found himself nodding as he walked through the various rooms. It wasn't a big place, but the kitchen was tidy, the two bedrooms were pre-furnished with comfortable beds, and the couch in the living room was only slightly worn. The roof access through the large living room window sealed it. This was the place. If the whelp didn't like it… well, he could find his own or continue on at the redhead's bar. Chaos certainly didn't need him. Although, if the kid liked the place too – and didn't mind splitting the rent – he figured he could tolerate him a bit longer.

* * *

Kadaj paused in front of Seventh Heaven with an odd sense of déjà vu. The hesitancy he felt was oddly reminiscent of his recent feelings outside Johnny's Heaven. Once again, his hand hovered uncertainly over a door handle. If he hadn't called ahead and asked Tifa when Cloud would be around and told her he wanted to meet with him, he probably would have walked away, but the phone call had committed him.

It hadn't ended all that badly at the other bar, so surely he could handle this. He closed his eyes for a second and summoned the mental wall that shielded his feelings from view before swinging the door open.

He hadn't expected to see Chaos. When had he stopped hanging out on the rooftop and started coming in? And was that _chess_ he was playing? Incredulous, he looked about the rest of the bar to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

There was always a kind of shock when his eyes met Cloud's. He wasn't sure where it came from or why – he just knew both he and Cloud felt it. Suddenly it was as if they were the only two people in the bar.

"Kadaj," Cloud acknowledged him.

"Cloud," he greeted back levelly, aware of the involuntary stiffening of his muscles.

They studied each other silently for a few moments. Sleeveless, Cloud's biceps were well-defined but not remarkable for a swordsman. Neither Kadaj nor his one-time adversary was brawny or large, their strength sourced through unnatural enhancements rather than physical bulk. Their battle had been epic, though. Kadaj had been glad to finally cross swords with the man he considered an older brother, to finally find a match for his own prowess. The opportunity to show Mother his worth and his one shining moment in a brief existence.

And it had all ended in ashes. Ashes and dust and Lifestream.

Blond spikes framed Cloud's face in the dim light of the bar, his startling Mako eyes boring into Kadaj. He had walked out of the bar in anger the last time they met. Why had he chosen to come again? Why did he need to see Cloud again before leaving to find Weiss?

Finally, Cloud jerked his head towards the stairs and he followed him out of the already crowded bar and up to the rooftop, glad for the privacy. As they exited the stairs onto the rooftop, the evening air carried up the smell of oil and gasoline from the streets below along with the diminished sounds of vehicles and people speaking, but up here it all seemed far removed, another world down below. He grasped the rail and leaned out over the edge.

"Tifa said you wanted to talk to me."

"Yes." His lips wanted to twist into a taunting smirk – his normal response to figures of authority – but he forced them to remain passive. Aggravating Cloud would not help him say what he had come to say. What _had_ he come to say?

"Do you think… Can forgiveness be earned?" was what came out. In his mind he saw again the two Turks – the Wutainese man and the blonde girl – bloodied and broken by his own hands. Could the blood ever be washed away? Could his hands be clean again, the scales balanced by his actions now? His grip on the railing tightened, the leather gloves that masked his soiled hands creaking in response.

The sound Cloud made reminded him a little of Chaos: completely noncommittal. It wasn't what he had been hoping for. He couldn't say he was surprised, though.

"You can't earn forgiveness. It can only be given."

 _No_. He refused to believe that. Cloud was wrong. He could _do_ this.

"I'm going to Gongaga," he threw out.

Cloud didn't respond verbally, just watched him intently, waiting for more.

"I've agreed to a mission for Rufus. I'm going to find Weiss." It wasn't exactly saving the world, but it should count for something. He studied Cloud for a response, but the swordsman remained impassive, maybe even a little impatient.

"I don't know what you want from me."

 _Acceptance._ The word wanted to burst free from his throat where it was choking him. _Why couldn't Cloud understand?_ But acceptance was one of those strange commodities that entirely lost its value if asked for directly. He released his grip on the rail and took a step back.

"Never mind. See you around." He turned back for the stairs.

"Kadaj…" Cloud's voice brought him to an abrupt halt, still facing the stairwell. "I— just don't do anything stupid, all right?

The words caused an inexplicable lump in Kadaj's throat. _Disappointment_. He ought to be used to the sensation by now. He blinked rapidly and resumed his course, not daring to respond or look back at the man from whom he continued to seek approval.

* * *

Huge thanks to Luna for breaking up the sound of crickets chirping with her lovely review last chapter.

Some of you may recognize Verdot from Before Crisis. If you aren't familiar with Before Crisis and want to know more, you can do a search on Verdot.

Vendetta

12/18/15


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Chaos was thoroughly convinced Gongaga had to be one of the strangest places on the face of the Planet. Sure, it looked normal enough on the surface – just a garden variety rural community populated more heavily with palm trees than people – but what was unnerving about it was how every person they encountered lifted a hand in greeting, nodded, or, at the very least, smiled at them. Any other place people either avoided eye contact or surveyed strangers with suspicion. Not in Gongaga. No, here everyone – not that there _were_ that many people – acted as if they were your friend. _Great_ – a province full of crazy people. Well, at least they were a _nice_ crazy rather than a _pitchforks and torches_ kind of crazy. These were "give the shirt off their back" crazy people.

Hadn't the Gongagans learned anything from the reactor explosion six years ago? He shook his head as they made their way back down from the cliff overlooking Gongaga where they had been able to see beyond the town all the way to wreckage from that incident. Not even six years could disguise the level of destruction caused by the Shinra Electric Company's Mako exploitation and the terrorists' violent response. Nor did it look like the company had invested in trying to clean up the mess it had caused. But where circumstances would suggest a community distrustful of strangers, they found inhabitants who were disgustingly outgoing and helpful. At mention of the disaster, they looked sad and recalled lost loved ones, but it didn't prevent their nearly intolerable friendliness.

The whelp didn't seem troubled by the welcoming atmosphere, judging by the way he nodded back at the locals every time they passed a horse-drawn cart or beat-up old jeep. That was the other thing about Gongaga: the technology seemed about two decades or more out of date. Which meant their motorcycles – Kadaj's choice of transportation, on Shinra's dime – would have stood out that much more. Not that such a thing mattered; they would stand out here, regardless. It was actually a little pointless ferrying the bikes over to this continent just to stash them and walk anyways, but the whelp hadn't been willing to forgo his first opportunity to ride outside of Edge.

A flash movement and a glimpse of red in the corner of his eye caught his attention, but when he looked, it was gone. The trails of Gongaga were dirt overshadowed by tall vegetation on either side, making for perfect ambush conditions, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling of apprehension brought on by the inability to see into their surroundings. Since they were in Gongaga to investigate reports of missing persons possibly linked to Weiss' presence, there was plenty of reason to be on guard.

They had parked their motorcycles in a dense cluster of the fronds of some kind of native plants with the notion of drawing less attention in the small town, leaving the guard hound to protect the bikes seeing as how in this bucolic community she would have the same effect as the bikes. He missed the cat's keen nose now that she was no longer with them; it would be a far more reliable sense than sight in this environment.

In the town itself, a thin band of smoke rose from each of the small huts, despite the climate that encouraged palm trees and jungle-like expanses of greenery. Chaos motioned towards a hut that, while looking no different from any other, was clearly labeled as a tavern by the sign out front. It seemed the best place to continue gathering information.

The teen ordered drinks for them both. Chaos held his to his nose and smelled the red contents in his glass – sort of a tangy, sweet smell – before taking a large swallow of it, which he then had to fight the urge to spit out in the middle of the establishment. Was the whelp trying to _poison_ him?

Meanwhile, the kid was happily – was whatever strange friendliness infected this place getting to the boy too? – sipping his drink and talking with the barkeeper. Their conversation confirmed the reports Shinra had obtained regarding a rash of disappearances in the area of late. Not much was known about it, but there was at least one eyewitness report of an unusual man with white hair lurking in the area. The people of Gongaga weren't suspicious by nature, but they weren't stupid either and were perfectly capable of putting one and two together. The sighting had occurred near the old reactor site, suggesting that location as the next logical destination for their inquiries.

Leaving his full glass on the counter next to the whelp's empty one, Chaos walked out with the teen onto the unpaved street. Red – the color that he had observed earlier from the corner of his eye – caught his attention across the street and to their right. He couldn't help but stare. An ordinary looking otter in a not-so-ordinary costume was not a sight he could process quickly. Perhaps the drink had been stronger than he thought? He glanced at the teen to see if he was seeing the cowboy-hat-and-red kerchief-wearing otter as well. Apparently he was, since he was staring with his mouth slightly ajar. The creature noticed their attention.

"G'day! Lovely bit of sunshine we're havin' this arvo, ay?"

Nothing about the sight of the creature or the sounds it was emitting was making sense. Simply did not compute. Everyone else in the Gongagan region managed to speak perfectly understandably. And _why_ was an otter speaking in the first place? " **Arvo**?"

The otter blinked at him like he'd just asked what a chocobo was, before responding in the same twangy voice. "Yah know, after lunch. Middlah of the day, yeah?"

 _Die?_ Still not , _day._ It wasn't an accent he had ever heard on the Continent or elsewhere, but, clearly, it was an accent. Why should _that_ surprise him, though – he was talking to an _otter in a cowboy hat_ , after all.

Wait… a strangely dressed talking animal with an accent? Naturally, that could only mean one thing. Not that he had seen this particular variation before.

" **Cait Sith**."

"Nah, mate, how could you mistake me for that _bogan_?" the otter protested.

Could an otter have hurt feelings? And who or what was a _bogan_?

"The WRO's stuffed toy?" his silver-haired companion responded to the designation he had given the creature.

"Stuffed toy? What would your mum say about your lack of manners—"

The otter's question was cut off by the whelp's fingers around its throat as he held the creature against the wall of the nearest building. It took Chaos a moment to figure out why. Mum? Oh. _Oh_. Really, it should be common knowledge by now not to make remarks about the remnant's mother or his relationship with Jenova. Although, in all fairness, it was probable the otter's remark was a general one rather than intentionally targeted towards the teen's sensitivities. Perhaps he should step in and keep the kid from destroying the water rodent before they were able to squeeze any information out of it.

"Stop! Boss! Boss!" Apparently the otter didn't need oxygen to speak, which made sense for a robotic creature – except it was so… _lifelike_. "They are goin' to k—"

"Kenji?" a concerned male voice came through a speaker located somewhere on the robotic animal.

"Boss! Help!"

" **Reeve**?" Chaos elected to address the voice directly instead of the robotic intermediary.

"Not exactly. Reeve is… on extended leave. I'm, _ahem,_ filling in. Now, could you please put Kenji down before his wiring is damaged?"

"Boss, they tried to kill me!"

Chaos found that if he listened to the otter with a squint, it wasn't really difficult to tell what he was saying after all. He motioned for the teen to set the artificial intelligence unit down.

"Kenji, I said be _discreet_! That means _don't_ get caught."

"Well, boss, it's not like I walked up to them and said 'Hey, I'm a spy for Kunsel of the WRO', is it?"

"Kenji! Just _stop_ talking." This Kunsel character exuded frustration. Of course, that might be because the otter was apparently about as good at keeping secrets as a certain blonde Turk. If there was any truth to the saying that "loose lips sink ships" this spy must have a whole armada at the bottom of the ocean.

"Kenji… you're wearing clothes again, aren't you?" Kunsel sighed, sounding suddenly tired. Chaos could relate. Sometimes he felt the same way when dealing with the remnant.

"Nah, boss… just my hat… an' kerchief… oh, an' the bola – but that's for protection, you know?" Kenji nervously adjusted the knot on the kerchief in question with his paws.

Could otters have cheesy grins? Now that his feet were back on the ground and his windpipe not constricted, this otter certainly seemed to have just that.

The disembodied voice sighed again in resignation. "On second thought, Kadaj, go ahead and tear him apart. It's about time I built a new model – apparently there are several bugs in the current programming…"

"You don't _really_ mean that, do yah?" The creature had lost the cheesy grin.

" **So, Kunsel of the WRO**..." Chaos broke in and deliberately let the words hang in the air, curious what the man's approach would be now that his identity was known and his spy's cover was blown.

Instead, it was the kid who responded, his silver hair flaring out as his head spun to face Kenji again. "Wait… the WRO _kicked us out_! You're responsible for that?" he demanded of Kunsel through the lifelike robot. Kenji took several steps backwards, ducking behind Chaos in his attempt to avoid the remnant.

Chaos' own anger flared as he recalled the sight of their possessions rudely dumped outside the warehouse and the officious tone of the notice tacked to the wall. His fingers itched to pop off the head of whoever was responsible. But no, he couldn't afford to lose objectivity and join the teen in gratifying such impulses at the expense of more important things.

"Rest assured that was wholly unintentional. Had we realized that you were occupying that building, I am sure we could have made some accommodations." The voice halted, seeming to reconsider his words. "Or rather, I should say, of course the WRO was aware of your presence in the building, but the branch responsible for building acquisition and the branch responsible for monitoring… persons of interest are separate. So, you see, it was simply a bureaucratic mistake and nothing personal."

 _Nothing personal_? How was getting evicted _not_ personal?

"Boss… uh, boss, I don' think that's helpin'. They don't look too happy." The otter was edging away from both of them.

Or he was – until Kadaj's fingers grasped him around the throat again.

How was he supposed to concentrate on his conversation with the WRO representative if those two couldn't behave for two seconds?

" **Whelp, stop trying to kill the muskrat until we can get this figured out**."

"Muskrat? Why you wombat-lovin'—"

" _Kenji_!" Kunsel snapped.

"Roight, shuttin' up now."

"Chaos, Kadaj, we messed up with the warehouse. I promise we'll make it up to you, somehow. In the meanwhile, may I suggest that Kenji could be of assistance to you if you'll let him tag along? He can keep you in touch with me."

" **Who says we would want to be in touch with you**?"

"The WRO has the best intelligence network on the Planet – even better than what you can get from Shinra. It's a win-win situation, really."

Chaos wasn't so sure about _that_ , but since the WRO would probably be spying on them either way, it might be easier if the spy was where they could keep an eye on _him_.

He glanced at the remnant – this was his mission, so it was really his call. He could practically see the cogs turning in the kid's head as he weighed the relative benefits of any information obtained from the WRO against the cons of inviting a robotic spy into their midst before he sulkily shrugged his shoulders.

"See, I knew you weren't such a bad bloke," Kenji gushed. "Now we can all be mates an' I can be your scout and chief information gatherah, an—"

" _Kenji_!"

"Sorry, boss! Roight. Off we go, then." The otter took a few steps before halting. "Um, where exactly are we headed?"

Chief information gatherer, indeed.

* * *

Happy New Year! Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas!

A new year and a new character: Kenji! Kenji is my first speaking OC (Vendetta being the first non-speaking OC), and completely my own design.

I do, however, owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to TheScreamingViking for her help in establishing and tweaking his accent. Since I have no experience writing accents and very little experience with Aussies, you can imagine how imperative her help has been (and let me be clear that all residual mistakes in portraying the accent are wholly my own). Please consider dropping by her profile and reading her lovely crossover fics for FFVII/Mass Effect and FFVII/Dragon Age. Also, she has an AMAZING new Kunsel and Genesis friendship fic, so check that out!

Oh, Kunsel! Yes! Congratulations to anyone who guessed he would be filling in for Reeve at the WRO, and for anyone not familiar with Kunsel (gasp!) you can find him amongst the cast of Crisis Core.

In preparing this chapter, I found that Australian accents fall into three basic categories: the general, the broad, and the cultivated. While the general is the most common Australian accent, Kenji's accent will at times be stronger and fit more in line with the broad accent. Please know that this is to make his accent more recognizable and not because I believe all Aussies sound like Steve Irwin. The last thing I want is to accidentally offend some of my lovely Aussie readers.

In case you are curious, in rough translation, the Aussie word _arvo_ means afternoon and _bogan_ is a term for a person that is lower class or rough around the edges. Now, I would not necessarily describe Cait as a bogan, but I don't take responsibility for all the thoughts and actions of my characters (I'd have to be insane to do that!)

Special thanks to Stompy for her review of last chapter and her kind words of encouragement that are particularly appreciated since ffnet's traffic stats haven't been working for me lately. A huge welcome and thank you to new follower and reviewer Beloved and new follower Lily.

I remain ever grateful to my primary betas as well.

Vendetta

01/01/16


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The otter hadn't stopped talking since they met up with it, which was quite a shock after having lived and traveled in relative silence for weeks. Neither Kadaj nor Chaos tended to have a lot to say to one other, and it seemed the otter was determined to make up the difference for both of them.

"And then there was the time the boss sat on Rekka and almost broke it. Did I tell you about that one?"

"What's a Rekka?" Kadaj asked reflexively, although, if he thought about it, he probably didn't want to know. A similar inquiry had resulted in a fifteen-minute discourse on the peculiar creature known as a _wombat_ – most assuredly a mythical beast based on the description the otter gave.

"Rekka is the boss' wife's weapon: a shuriken. It probably wouldn't have broken just from bein' sat on, but you should've heard the way she laid into him for it. She was as mad as a cut snake."

" **Hnn… Kunsel's married, is he**?"

That Chaos would pick up on that detail before him was a sure sign of his level of distraction. He had a suspicion Kunsel would not be appreciative of all the tales Kenji was telling, not a few of which involved him as a central character. He'd missed Kenji's reply, but he could probably learn a fair amount about the interim WRO leader if he listened closely. That reminded him…

"Can't Kunsel hear everything you're saying right now?"

"Nah, mate, it doesn't work like that. The boss is a busy man and can't be listenin' all the time. See, so I can call him if I need him or he can check in, but I always know when he's logged in."

"Wouldn't he object to you sharing some of his stories?"

"Well, yeah, but you're not goin' to tell him… are yah? You don't know what he would do to me." Somehow, Kenji's eyes doubled their size as the otter halted and gazed up at him.

How did it do that? He might bear a grudge against Kunsel – and the WRO at large – for their eviction, but he had to give the man credit for building this machine with its liquid, lifelike eyes.

"Besides, he wants me to be friendly with you and make myself useful, yeah?"

Somehow he didn't think that sharing personal stories and information was exactly what Kunsel had in mind when he issued those instructions, but Kenji's rather loose interpretation of standing orders seemed to be in their favor, so who was he to complain? Kadaj may have been less than enthusiastic about including the otter, but he wasn't so closed-minded as to turn away a tactical advantage when it bounded into their midst all gift-wrapped in a furry package.

At the moment he needed to focus on the task at hand and be vigilant for signs of Weiss, but as soon as they got back to Edge, he would begin pushing for information on Loz and Yazoo's whereabouts. If the WRO knew anything, he would get it out of the otter – one way or another. He would let nothing distract him from that primary goal.

The group halted when they reached the point where the motorcycles were stashed, and Vendetta padded out on silent paws. The guard hound's gaze fixated on Kenji and her tongue swept over her whiskers, causing the otter to tug nervously at the knot in his kerchief. Admirably, though, he stood his ground and didn't flee – smart, he wouldn't have lasted long if he had run. The guard hound had a thing for small, fast-moving creatures.

" **Cat, don't eat the spy until we're done with it**."

"N-nice kitty. Nice, not hungry kitty."

 _Not the otter too_. "She's a guard hound, not a cat."

A few sniffs and a playful bat with her paw later and Vendetta appeared to accept the robot as inedible and uninteresting… for the time being. She contentedly stretched and yawned – inadvertently displaying her large canines to the terrified otter – before lying beside the motorcycles again.

Chaos chuckled, surprising Kadaj. For once, the monster's mirth was directed at someone other than himself, and he felt a tad bit warmer toward their resident spy. He would welcome someone else being the focus of Chaos' acerbic sense humor. Maybe he would leave Kadaj alone for a change – one could always hope.

They discussed riding the motorcycles the rest of the way down the path to the destroyed reactor site, but in the end elected to leave the bikes and guard hound in favor of a more stealthy approach on the chance that Weiss was still in the area.

They hadn't gone far when three large insectoid creatures blocked the narrow pathway. Rather like large praying mantises – kimara bugs, Sephiroth's memories supplied – the monsters made disturbing clicking noises with their oversized raptorial forelegs.

Kadaj and Chaos fell quickly into their accustomed pattern, honed over the course of weeks fighting in close proximity to one another while defending convoys from a variety of monsters. If the guard hound had been with them, she might have engaged the third creature while Chaos and Kadaj each took on one, but since she was still back with the bikes, he supposed whichever of them finished with their target first would have to engage the remaining insect.

He heard the sound first – coming from behind him – just before a whirling blur took down the third kimara. He raised an eyebrow. He hadn't given Kenji's weapon much thought, largely discounting the small robotic unit as a non-entity in a fight. The weapon, like the otter itself, seemed far too small to induce any real damage, so he was surprised – impressed, even – at the effectiveness of the instrument in taking down the large insect. He nodded his approval at the spy. After downing his own target and finishing the one the otter had brought down, he unraveled the weapon from the kimara and studied its nature – three fist-sized balls connected by plain brown cord – before handing it back to the otter.

"That's an unusual weapon. Effective, though."

"Too right! She's a bonzer, my bola is," the otter said as he accepted it.

Kadaj was growing accustomed to not understanding most of the odd things Kenji said. Strangely, he found he did not entirely mind.

He started to follow Chaos down the path to the reactor site, but the otter halted with a puzzled look and scampered over to the dissolving monsters where he plucked a round object from the ground.

"Aren't you goin' to take the materia?"

Traveling in Chaos' company, Kadaj had become accustomed to leaving materia behind since neither of them could use it. By silent agreement, they had developed the habit of _not_ commenting on their mutual inability to handle the powerful orbs. He hadn't realized just how sore a topic it was until the otter brought it up. He still missed the surge of power and competency that came with slipping a materia under his skin and equipping it. There was very little that could not be accomplished with the right leveled materia.

A feeling akin to anger rose up. _Jealousy_. It swept over him with surprising intensity as he gazed at the hourglass materia carelessly held out in the otter's paw. The fact that it would sear his palm did not prevent the nearly overwhelming impulse to snatch it away from the spy who could not possibly appreciate its true value.

He was relieved when Chaos spoke so he didn't have to – the words breaking a spell he had been under and leaving him free to draw a breath and walk away.

" **Keep it. Consider it a reward for your part in taking out the bugs**."

Kadaj didn't fail to notice how his companion effectively made a deflection look like an act of generosity while suavely concealing their mutual limitation. He was glad that the angle he faced hid his smirk from Kenji. The otter would learn soon enough what sort of company he had joined, and Kadaj rather looked forward to being around for that revelation. Maybe Chaos' wicked sense of humor was rubbing off on him.

* * *

The change was abrupt. One moment dense jungle surrounded them on either side, the next barren waste opened up revealing the dilapidated ruins of the Mako reactor. Chaos had witnessed the devastation from the cliff overlooking the town, but it was another experience altogether to witness it up close and personal.

 _Poisoned_. That was the only description for the land around the reactor that rose like a specter of twisted metal and leaning derricks before them. The dense vegetation ended suddenly, contrasting starkly with the dry dirt that could not support even the hardiest of weeds. No wonder the people of Gongaga had decided to forgo modern technology. If this was their experience with it, he couldn't blame them for their decision.

The whelp took the lead as they crossed the line between the fertile land and the desolate. Even the air felt dead. All the sounds of the jungle – the twitter and call of birds, the nearly imperceptible whisper of leaf on leaf, the intangible song of life – ceased.

It was unlikely they would find what they were looking for here.

Rubble rose on either side as they progressed deeper into the site. Large concrete slabs with twisted rebar poking out barred the way in places, and old barrels lay scattered haphazardly about, some rusted through and leaching neon chemicals.

A small dust devil swirled the fine sediment that had accumulated on the concrete, revealing yellow-painted hazard lines that testified to a time when this was a busy industrial plant. He could almost hear whispers from a different time – people going about their jobs, ignorant to their own impending doom. His wings twitched involuntarily and a chill crept its way up his spine.

They had visited the graveyard back in the town, but this… _this_ was the real graveyard. Not that he was one to be bothered by such macabre thoughts. No, he was merely observing facts. This was a place populated by ghosts and forsaken by the living. They would not find Weiss here.

"Company… how nice." The deep voice came from behind and a little above.

He was getting _really_ tired of being wrong. And he _wasn't_ one for surprises.

* * *

FFNET stats and review postings are finally working for me again! *knocks on wood*

Many thanks to Stompy and Beloved for their lovely review on Chapter 18. Reviews make the Vendetta smile.

Also, on the long chance that one of wonderful readers happens to like this story and have artistic talents, fanart of Vendetta, Kenji, or anything C& K would be welcomed.

Vendetta

01/15/16


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"Company… how nice."

Kadaj turned and let his gaze rise up the derrick to the man. Heavy combat boots reached to his knees, and a wide stance supported Weiss' frame where he stood above them on the ruined crossbeams. Dual katanas jutted from their sheathes on his back, creating the impression of an X behind the thin waist that tapered down from a broad, bare chest, just as it had in the photos supplied by Shinra.

What he had never counted on from having seen the photos was the resemblance. Weiss' white hair was only a shade paler than his own, but the way his lips peeled back… _that_ was a perfect imitation of Sephiroth. With that same arrogance Sephiroth had surveyed everyone around him – including Kadaj in the background of his own mind – and silently conveyed that all were found lacking. Could Weiss be another manifestation of the legendary general? Looking at him now, the man could almost be his brother in the most literal sense, but he knew that wasn't the case.

He had read the file – how Weiss and his younger brother resulted through gene splicing of samples from something dubbed Specimen G, but were the product of a very real, flesh and blood mother who perished mysteriously at the hand of the younger son. Quite different from emerging fully fledged from the Lifestream as a remnant of Sephiroth's undiffused life force, but still…

He wished he had paid closer attention to the finer details, but the scientific jargon had been wearying to read and he had thought he understood the relevant points – mainly that Weiss had suffered at the hands of Shinra and then been taken over by a will other than his own. He had thought it enough of a similarity that Weiss was a creation of Shinra, manipulated and abused for their own purposes and then discarded like trash when he no longer served their will, but he wasn't so sure anymore.

He would make a point to research Deepground and Specimen G further when he returned. For now, he needed to persuade Weiss; everything else would follow in its own time.

He wet his lips. He had gone over this moment so many times in his head – what to say to this man and how to pull him back from the ledge.

"Weiss!" His voice came out a note higher than he intended and was swallowed by the dead, empty air. He took a breath, steadying himself. "You don't know me, but I've not come to fight you."

The Tsviet regarded him silently, that trademark smirk still prominent.

"I understand where you're coming from, Weiss. Shinra has wronged many of us, and I know about Deepground." The gene-splicing program had been only the first of many wrongs perpetrated against Weiss and the other inhabitants of the Deepground facility – all attempts to hone human beings into perfect weapons. Attempts which had been entirely too successful, as evidenced when those weapons turned on their creators. How to turn the weapon back into a man?

"But, Weiss, Deepground is gone for good. Hojo is dead. There is no reason to continue on this path of kidnapping and bloodshed. You can choose your own path now. As I have." The words sounded pathetic and ineffectual even to his own ears. He licked his lips again and tried to discern if his words were having any impact. "There is another way. Come back with me… brother, and we will find it together."

"I know exactly who and what you are." Weiss lowered his chin and released a chuckle that made Kadaj's skin crawl. "And I've no intention of giving up my goals and my aspirations. Do you think the petty concerns of feeble beings and crawling worms matter to me? You've had the wool pulled over your eyes by the sheep… little brother."

 _Little brother_. That phrase did something to him. How he had longed for those words. From Sephiroth, from Cloud… and now he heard them from this stranger. He shoved the feeling aside. He needed to get Weiss to come back with him. He _needed_ to succeed.

"You can choose to come voluntarily… or we will _take_ you back. Either way, we're not leaving without you." He swept the hair from his face and stared directly at Weiss. The Tsviet could take it as an invitation or a challenge – it was both.

Weiss jumped down from the derrick, landing in front of him with his knees bending slightly to absorb the impact. He smiled as he straightened, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a manner that could not be called entirely friendly. He reached over his shoulders with both hands and drew the two swords from their sheathes on his back. "Let us see if you can."

"Stay back," Kadaj directed Chaos and the otter without taking his eyes from his opponent. He drew Souba in a smooth, practiced gesture and relished the feel of the blade in his hands, its perfect balance, as always, awakening a singing in his blood.

He was not overly worried. He had played through this scenario in his mind because it had always been a greater than average possibility Weiss would not be swayed by words alone. They would fight, but he would spare Weiss and, once back in Edge, convince his captive to see things differently.

Weiss leveled both swords at him, one in each hand. Not just katanas then, gun blades. He knocked the bullets aside with Souba, a defense he had practiced on numerous occasions with his brothers. The Tsviet tilted his head back and laughed.

"Blades it is, then." Weiss' voice sent shivers up his spine in a way that could not be explained by the words alone.

They circled each other slowly, taking measure of one another. He let Weiss make the first move. Weiss' blow sent a shudder up Souba and into his shoulder, leaving his hand numb. He had underestimated the strength of the Tsviet – whatever experimentation had been conducted on him, it had yielded remarkable results. He would not lose his blade, though, not like he had with Cloud. By willpower alone he clung to the hilt.

Too late, _too late_ he realized the cost of his concentration on Souba. Weiss' second weapon was arcing towards him. No time, _no time_.

Something came sweeping out of the air and struck Weiss' skull, not hard enough to truly do any harm, but successfully distracting him so that Kadaj could disengage from the first blade and throw up a block against the second with Souba. Once again, he found himself wondering about the otter's strange choice of weapon and resolved to ask about it when the fight was over – when he had conquered and subdued Weiss.

They circled each other again atop a pile of broken concrete slabs. He _would_ win this fight, but he wouldn't do it by brute force. He didn't like to admit – even to himself – that Weiss was stronger, but ignoring the fact would cost him. No, he would have to use his agility and brains to overcome Weiss.

"Do you see? You are weak and pathetic. Too long you have been influenced by humanity and slaves. You have been siphoned and sucked dry." Weiss' grating laugh lingered in the dead air and bounced off the ruined structures around them.

Annoying as it was, the laugh was exactly the opening he had been looking for. He lunged in again, targeting Souba at that bare chest. But, no, the dual katanas caught Souba and shrugged it off like it was nothing.

Then Weiss was whirling at him, his swords spinning at a dizzying speed. Kadaj backed up, one step, then another, until the derrick was at his back. Weiss' katanas danced out in perfect synchronization, but swept through the empty air where Kadaj had been and lodged in a rusted metal barrel.

Kadaj initiated a classic Sephiroth maneuver, using the downward momentum gained from his higher position to add force to his attack.

He wasn't quite quick enough to catch Weiss before he withdrew his swords from the metal drum, but the Tsviet didn't have time to adequately deflect Kadaj's blade after freeing his own. Souba caught both blades at an awkward angle and slowly, slowly Kadaj forced them towards their owner.

Weiss took several steps back and was able to free the dual katanas.

Kadaj retreated up a derrick once again, luring Weiss towards the top and into a location where his smaller size and agility would be an advantage. Catching Weiss when his focus was diverted to climbing, he used the downward slashing attack again. Souba hurtled towards the Tsviet's throat with nothing to block it. At the last second, Kadaj remembered himself and pulled the strike, halting the blade at the man's throat. Souba's fine dual edges traced two faint lines of red against the white skin that quickly blossomed into red trails.

He didn't want to kill Weiss, but it was hard to focus over the roar in his ears and the wild pound of his heart. A dark tendril of thought urged him to go on, to _finish it_. But that was not what he had come for. He steadied his hand and took a breath.

"Join me, Weiss. I was _meant_ to find you. Let us fight, let us live and prosper… _together_."

Weiss slowly raised the back of his hand to wipe away the rivulets of blood from his neck, his katana still firmly in his grasp. Then he laughed, a hard, cold sound like ice breaking underfoot on a river in winter. His lunge caught Kadaj off guard and he staggered backwards as the twin katanas leapt to life again.

Kadaj managed to recover his footing on the narrow beams of the derrick and got in two glancing blows in quick succession. He was leaping for a third when the girder beneath him gave way. Souba clattered downwards as he flung out his arms in a desperate attempt to halt his fall. His hands briefly found purchase on a worn sign displaying the Shinra logo, and he hung there until it too gave way and he tumbled toward the concrete below to the sound of Weiss' laugh. With no materia to slow his fall, he plummeted unobstructed.

He regained consciousness from the fall to see Weiss landing with bent knees and then advancing towards him.

"Will you beg and plead now, little larva?" he gloated as he raised both blades, still gleaming with whatever green chemical had anointed them when they thrust into the rusted barrel.

Kadaj's eyes swept the area, searching for Souba, but found the weapon beyond reach. He raised his arms before him in an instinctive but futile attempt to block the twin blades of death.

" **That's far enough. I've given the whelp first go at you, but** ** _now_** **it's my turn**." Chaos' metal gauntlet caught and rebounded the katanas with a deafening sound.

Relief battled anger inside Kadaj at Chaos' intrusion. He lay still a moment longer, listening to the sounds of battle. Metal clashing on metal and grunts of exertion gave testimony to the ferocity of the fight.

He began pushing himself up on his elbows. He might have been knocked down – and literally knocked out – but that didn't mean he was out of this fight. If only his body would cooperate.

He watched as Chaos landed a blunt blow against the Tsviet's head only to be caught in the shoulder with that sneaky second blade. The fine blade sliced through flesh like it was vapor. Chaos shoved away, dislodging the blade and hurling it away with a snarl. Both combatants stood regarding each other, their breath loud in the silence of the ruined reactor facility.

An explosion rocked the side of the mountain above the town. Weiss grinned.

A distraction, that's all this had been then – a distraction for some larger purpose Weiss had wanted concealed – and apparently not even a very good one.

The vibrating buzz of a phone cut through the harsh breathing of the combatants.

"Alas, duty calls, although I would have liked to stay and finish this party," Weiss said as he stooped and reclaimed his fallen blade before pulling a fist-sized ball from his other pocket and equipping it.

 _Materia_. Kadaj didn't know whether it was jealousy at the ease Weiss put the Exit materia to use and disappeared or if it was relief. He let his head fall back to the ground, ignoring the billow of dust it stirred.

Finally, he sat up and took stock, first of his own body – not good, _really_ not good, but nothing permanently damaged – and then of his comrades.

Kenji was picking up his weapon from where it had fallen after striking its one hit against Weiss.

Chaos was wiping blood from his arm.

" **It's just a scrape** ," he grunted when he noticed Kadaj watching.

It was more than a scrape; blood welled from the wound and ran down Chaos' arm in rivers. Kadaj removed the cloth from around his neck and tossed it to him to bind the wound with. Silently, the otter offered its neckerchief as well. He supposed Chaos knew his limits and if he needed medical attention, he would seek it.

* * *

Chaos couldn't make sense of it. Hojo was dead – Valentine had seen to that.

Weiss _should_ have reverted to his original personality. So why did the Tsviet still remind him so strongly of Hojo? Something about the arrogance in his voice and the way he spoke…

Granted, Weiss had a right to some pride – the man could _fight_. But his comments about people were the same nonsense Hojo had spouted. Not that Chaos was any human-lover – not by a long shot – but even he could recognize their merit on occasion. Weiss sounded like he thought he was above them.

Whether it was hypocritical of Chaos to be bothered by that… well, he chose not to dwell on it. There were other things that required his attention.

"That one has a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock," the otter commented.

Whatever _those_ were. But he couldn't disagree with the obvious sentiment: the Tsviet was nuts through and through, no matter what the whelp had hoped.

The kid didn't say a word, not all the way back to the bikes and not even as he straddled his and kicked it to life, heading out with the guard hound leaping to follow after.

If Chaos was honest with himself – and he tried not to be any more often than he had to; such a thing was, after all, hazardous to one's mental health – he was concerned about the kid's brooding. There was something dangerous about it – something he couldn't quite put a finger on – that itched at him in a way reminiscent of a cocklebur he had gotten stuck in his clothes while at the chocobo farm.

He had already taken a few punches from the teen in order to bring him out of his last funk. That was a one-time deal, though – no way was he offering to become the whelp's punching bag on a regular basis.

Besides, his arm was aching horribly. What he wouldn't do to be able to use a Cure materia about now. But he wasn't going to ask someone else to heal the deep slice for him, not when it would heal on its own. Not when he would have to reveal the extent of his injury to someone he didn't fully trust – which was everyone.

The otter was giving him an expectant look. "Guess I'm ridin' with you."

Truth was, he'd rather eat the otter than share his motorcycle with it, but the cat was probably right: it wouldn't taste as good as it looked. He didn't relish the idea of wires stuck between his teeth, either.

" **Get on then, muskrat**."

The otter bounded up and settled on his uninjured shoulder – not what he had intended, but he supposed it wasn't any worse for him than it riding behind him. He wasn't entirely sure the otter would be able to balance and hold on in that position at high speeds, but that wasn't _his_ problem.

* * *

Vendetta

01/29/16


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Chaos held the door open for his companions. All the better to watch their resident spy – _not_ out of the goodness of his heart, if such a thing even existed.

The teen collapsed on his bed, ignoring them both while the guard hound wedged herself in next to him.

Chaos set to cleaning and re-bandaging his shoulder. He watched as the otter poked around the apartment curiously. It would probably want to make a report to Kunsel soon. He wasn't sure what the arrangements were to be now that they were back in Edge. Would the spy return to WRO headquarters or remain with them?

"Only two cots?"

Well that answered that question.

" **You're a machine; pretty sure you don't need to sleep**."

"Blimey, mate, even a machine can crave comfort."

" **What do you do at night, anyway**?"

"Peruse files, send reports, you know, that sort of thing." The otter continued exploring, peeking in closets and opening cabinets. "I can access information on just about anyone or anything."

" **Hnn**..." They might have to put that assertion to the test at some point.

Having examined the contents of the cabinets, Kenji next opened the refrigerator. Chaos nearly growled at that. Bad enough for the rodent to make himself at home in the rest of the apartment, but he had better keep his grubby paws off the food.

"Are you aware all of the grub in this tucker box is out of date? Well, except for the mustard… but I'm not sure that counts."

Chaos shoved the refrigerator door closed, not too careful of whether it hit the otter's… fingers… or whatever otters had.

" **Feel free to procure the necessary items and prepare us a feast, if it bothers you so**." He didn't really expect the otter to do so; it would be enough if it would just shut up and settle somewhere.

"Nah, mate, I'd love to, but it's not in my programmin', you see?"

" **You don't cook. Figures. Did your creator deliberately eliminate all useful functions from your programming**?"

The otter feigned injury, almost but not quite earning a chuckle. "Let's go to that pub next door. I'll treat you to a meal. That is, the WRO will treat us all to a meal. A couple hours isn't goin' to change anything, so I can fill out my report on Weiss afterwards."

Shinra would be wanting his report from the whelp too, but _he_ certainly wasn't going to bring it up to the kid in his current mood – it wasn't in his job description.

" **The pub next door… you mean Seventh Heaven? The AVALANCHE base**?"

"Well, technically, AVALANCHE no longer exists. And word is, Tifa makes a mean steak."

Not to mention _cinnamon rolls_. Chaos wasn't one to turn away free food.

"Can you even eat?" The whelp had rolled over on his stomach and was watching them, drawn into the odd conversation despite his raw mood. "It doesn't seem like it would be good for a robot."

"I prefer simulacrum, and people operate best on certain balanced nutritional meals, but most of them eat sugar, corn syrup, and artificial preservatives," the otter responded, ticking off each item as it spoke.

Okay, point. Fact was, he didn't really care one way or the other if the otter ate, plugged into an outlet, or charged on the moon's rays as long as he stayed out of Chaos' provisions. He was curious about one thing though…

" **So, Seventh Heaven… how does that even work**?"

"What now?" the otter asked.

" **Your WRO expense account. Do you have a stash of cash on you**?" The hat. His bet lay on the money being in the hat. It was the kind of information that could be useful later on.

"Nah, that's an old school way of conductin' business. Now it's all electronic, see? Microchip in the paw." Kenji waved his paw with a magician's flourish. "Kunsel gets a little cranky when I use it for clothes, though."

" **Hnn. You coming, kid**?"

* * *

Kadaj followed Kenji and Chaos through the bar's doorway, not as eager for socialization as the otter and not as motivated by food as Chaos.

"What's _he_ doing here," a young female voice demanded. The dark haired girl – Wutainese, no doubt – was staring right at him.

It could almost be a bad joke: a spy, a demon, and a human walk into a bar… and the punchline? It was the human that was unwanted. Well, maybe "human" was a stretch, but he was more human than the other two.

The girl's clothing – or rather, the inadequacy of it – made him uncomfortable, and his eyes moved to the other occupants of the room. He recognized Valentine from their last meeting in this same room. In stark contrast to the young woman with him, the gunman registered no surprise at their entrance.

" **Yuffie, surely you were made aware of our presence in the city** ," Chaos growled when Kadaj didn't respond.

"The great Yuffie Kisaragi, White Rose of Wutai, WRO Ninja of the Night is always well informed. Of course I knew!" The self-proclaimed ninja made a pirouette that nearly landed her in Valentine's lap. He rose and went to lean against the far wall with crossed arms.

After recovering her balance and seeing Chaos still glowering at her, Yuffie added, "I just didn't expect you here, at Seventh Heaven. Not _him_ , anyway." She crossed her arms as she looked significantly at Kadaj.

" **You have a problem with the remnant? Scared, are you**?"

"What? No way! Of course not! I was just worried for everyone else, that's all. He's Sephiroth larva!"

" **Hnn** …"

"C'mon, the bug thing? Ew, gross!"

Chaos continued to glare at her until she stuck her tongue out at him and turned away. So, this was the princess of Wutai? It seemed a pretty immature response for someone that – doing some quick mental computation – was most likely older than himself. Not very princess-like either, but then there wasn't anything about her that screamed "princess." Certainly not her attire, which barely covered her thin frame.

He wished he could say her rejection meant nothing to him, but coming so close on the heels of his failure with Weiss, it stung.

Tifa came over and whispered something indistinguishable in Yuffie's ear and the young woman huffily relented and took a seat.

It was a slow night at Seventh Heaven and the gathered crowd consisted of a few regular customers, Tifa, Yuffie, the ever taciturn Valentine, Chaos, Kenji, and himself.

Kadaj chose to keep to himself as the food was ordered and delivered. Kenji had no such inhibitions and was soon regaling the small gathering with the tale of their encounter with Weiss. Somehow the otter's role had morphed from mostly hiding behind rubble to single-handedly taking on Weiss with his bola. Not quite how Kadaj remembered the battle – although the bola had indisputably played a role – but he kept his thoughts to himself.

Despite his gross exaggerations, it seemed Kenji was well-accepted by everyone. His Weiss story morphed into a retelling of the other monster encounters from their trip. Which in turn led to other stories by various members of the small gathering, culminating in the current retelling of an AVALANCHE encounter with Touch-Me frogs. Somehow it was hard to picture the mighty Cloud reduced to a small amphibian. Almost everyone laughed at Yuffie's exuberant depiction complete with mimed hopping around.

Somehow, though, the laughter did not quite reach him where he sat.

The atmosphere at Seventh Heaven was warm, voices bubbling around in good humor. Why, then, did he feel so _cold?_ He had debated the decision to accompany Chaos and Kenji to the bar and given in to avoid being alone. _Alone._ That's exactly how he felt, though, sitting on the fringe.

Kadaj shrugged off the trail of thought and pushed away the mostly full plate of food. He had little appetite for it – for any of this – tonight. He took another sip of cranberry juice, letting the flavor roll around in his mouth and take his mind in another direction.

Cloud was out late on a delivery, which was just as well for more reasons than one. Not the least of which was Kadaj's lack of preparation to face him tonight.

Kenji launched into another story about his creator, Kunsel, his antics earning him smiles and laughs from all but Valentine. Even Chaos cracked a half-smile.

How was it that a stuffed robot spy could interact more freely and be more readily accepted than he? Why did the group warmly enfold Kenji, while for him there was a nearly tangible barrier? Even Chaos seemed relatively at ease – _Chaos_ , a monster through and through.

This wasn't how he had imagined things. No – in his mind Weiss had easily acquiesced, seeing the truth in his words. In his mind, he returned to Edge successful, one step closer to redemption.

Instead, he sat alone amongst a group.

The only thing for which he could be grateful was that Tifa had sent the kids to bed early. He had yet to encounter the boy – Denzel – who had been ensnared in their kidnapping scheme. And he certainly wasn't ready tonight of all nights to come face-to-face with that stain upon his background. Quite possibly Tifa wasn't ready either – that would account for her sending the kids out as they entered. The thought only made him feel more cold and alone.

 _You can't earn forgiveness_ , Cloud had said. In his memory the emphasis felt heavy on the _you._

He had failed to bring in Weiss. He had failed to find his brothers. _He_ was a failure.

Kadaj slid from the stool at the bar and headed for the door. Instantly, a black shadow attached itself to his side. Vendetta was his one ally in this room. Only two other sets of eyes tracked his movements as he departed – silent Vincent against the wall and looming Chaos on the opposite side of the room – and he couldn't begin to guess their thoughts.

The framed photos on the wall crowded around, happy frozen faces smiling – leering? – on his departure.

Outside, he could breathe easier, but the oppressive feeling that had descended on him in Seventh Heaven refused to lift. He could go to Johnny's, but why trade one lonely bar for another? Granted, being alone in a group of strangers was still better than being alone amongst familiar faces, but even anonymity would be no buffer for the emotions he was feeling now. He could also return to the apartment across the street, but tonight the usually homey walls would assuredly crush in on him.

Instead, he walked the streets, accompanied only by the guard hound and his thoughts.

He could not say how long he wandered. Regrettably, getting lost was not a possibility for him. On this night, he would have welcomed becoming lost.

Cheery light from windows sporadically pierced the darkness outside and splashed in pools on the concrete. He paused by first one and then another: warm homes, filled with hand-carved furniture or scattered with children's toys.

The smell of grilling meat wafted on the warm night air.

And still he felt cold.

It wasn't that the buildings were particularly fancy; many of them were in fact quite the opposite. It was what was inside them that affected him. Beautiful places despite strewn belongings and sinks full of dishes. Beautiful places filled with beautiful families, blanketed in love.

Something he would never experience.

Still he wandered, pausing to peer in wherever the blinds were not firmly drawn against the darkness. In one home, a mother tucked two children into bed, reading them a bedtime story, the words of which he couldn't hear from his vantage point outside.

Through another window, he watched as siblings wrestled, one last rough-house session before lights-out. He pushed away and walked on. The last thing he needed tonight was to think about his brothers.

Yet another portal of light told the story of a young couple coming home from a dinner out, eyes only for each other.

He felt a bump against his thigh and looked down at the guard hound. He rubbed her ears and continued aimlessly on his way. Somewhere up ahead an owl hooted, an unusual sound in the city, but consistent with his mood.

Kadaj paused at another window. The drapes were pulled, but left just enough space for him to peer through. He wasn't sure why he continued in this self-torture. Maybe if he saw enough happy families and cut himself deep enough, it would eventually stop hurting.

He heard Vendetta's growl just before he felt the hand slide into his pocket.

* * *

Crickets are lovely insects. That said, writers love reviews too!

Vendetta

02/12/16


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Chaos watched the whelp leave and resisted a small impulse to follow. It wasn't his job to keep tabs on the kid.

His gaze roved around the room. The otter and the Wutainese brat were still competing for the most outrageous story, but he let their words fade into the background. He had to admit the otter wasn't too bad a spy in some regards – he had a likeability about him that led to easy acceptance in any group. Yeah, the otter could be a decent spy… if only he kept his mouth bridled a bit more.

Somewhere the otter had procured a new neckerchief to replace the one lent to help bind his wound – when or where he had found it, Chaos couldn't say.

He hadn't expected Valentine to be here tonight. He wasn't sure he would have come if he had. The moment he heard the girl and saw her brandish her shuriken at the whelp, though, he had _known_ – no need to even glance around for confirmation – Valentine would be there too.

But he wasn't about to leave on account of the gunman's presence. No, that would feel too much like retreating, too much like cowardice. Instead, he had positioned himself on the opposite side of the room where he could watch his former host without being too obvious. The one consolation in it was getting to watch Vincent's obvious discomfort around the Wutainese princess.

Chaos eyed the princess. She had looked like a little kid when she joined AVALANCHE, despite being well into her teens. She was still scrawny for her age, all skinny limbs and sharp joints. No doubt her Wutainese heritage figured into that. Looking so young certainly didn't make it any easier for her to gain the respect of those around her. Not that Chaos cared one way or the other. Valentine might be soft on children, but _he_ couldn't care one way or another. Nope, not in the slightest.

It wasn't like he didn't already have enough on his hands with his own stray. Kadaj's face had been unreadable when he walked out earlier, but Chaos would lay bets that whatever was going through the whelp's head, it wasn't anything good.

Not long after the whelp and cat left, Valentine made eye contact with him and headed for the roof. _Really_? Like he was at the beck and call of anyone? Those ties were severed, and he was his own person – or whatever he was – now.

Grudgingly, he turned and made his way up the stairs. Curiosity was a hard burden to bear. He would satisfy it and then be on his way.

On the roof, Valentine was crouched in that odd way of his that reminded Chaos of a predator at rest. The gunman looked off into the dark and made no move to turn at the sound of Chaos reaching the roof – he had been that certain that Chaos would follow him. Sometimes it was a serious pain in the neck having shared mind and body with the man. He rather prided himself on his own private thoughts, and to have someone know him almost as well as he knew himself… well, it was nothing if not annoying.

"Kadaj. How is he holding up?" Valentine asked.

What had he done to deserve this? What made him the remnant's keeper? All he had done was drag the sorry stray home one night – further proof that no good deed went unpunished. Save the world _one_ time, drag home _one_ remnant…

Besides, where did a man who sealed himself away in a coffin for thirty years get off with lecturing _him_ on civic responsibility?

" **You have the wrong person. Cloud's the hero**."

Chaos turned to leave, only just hearing Valentine's quiet, "Hnn. I wonder…"

That cryptic stuff might have worked on AVALANCHE, gently nudging them in certain directions, but Chaos was a different matter. Valentine might be old for his looks, but Chaos still had several millennia on him – no way was he going to be manipulated into being some sort of 'good guy' or hero.

* * *

Vendetta's growl had him tensing even before he felt the hand slide into his pocket.

 _Pickpocket._ The realization was startling, not because there were any shortage of thieves in Edge – between Meteorfall, the geostigma, and the Deepground crisis there were no shortage of desperate individuals who turned to crime to survive – but because Kadaj had never been a target before. There were easier marks, more defenseless prey.

The surprise had not even sunken in entirely before Vendetta's growl turned to a snarl as she lunged into the form behind him. The hand was wrested from his pocket as the pickpocket fell to the ground under the guard hound's onslaught.

"Vendetta, enough." He wasn't sure if she would respond to him or not. He wasn't even sure what had prompted her attack. Outside of monster encounters, she wasn't usually vicious. But then, guard hounds were bred for protective instincts, and from that perspective there wouldn't be much distinction between a stealthy assassin slipping a blade between ribs and a sneak thief dipping their hands into a pocket. Protect first, and your handler will be alive to ask questions later – that would be the guard hound motto.

After a few more moments, the guard hound reluctantly backed away from the would-be-attacker-turned-victim. Even in the darkness of the street, he could see how the blood soaked the shirt from where Vendetta's teeth had sunk in. Long dark hair spilled down into the blood in a tangled mess.

The wounds probably weren't life-threatening. Probably. He could walk away, tell himself to forget it.

No, no, he couldn't.

He knelt on the rough surface beside the form. A girl. Younger than him, for sure – younger than he _appeared,_ in any case _._ Older than the kids at Seventh Heaven, he guessed. Huge fearful eyes regarded him.

This wasn't like the adrenaline rush of a battle _at all_. In a fight, he welcomed the adrenaline and channeled it into fluid movements. But in this situation, he didn't know what to do and the adrenaline coursing through his system, with no direction to be channeled in, bordered on panic.

Blood continued to seep from the wounds in her shoulder. He couldn't leave the girl here.

"Do you have family, somewhere I can take you?"

The girl shook her head side to side vehemently.

"What's your name?"

Slower this time, the girl shook her head again.

"Okay, okay. It's going to be okay," he said as much to calm himself as the girl.

The girl said nothing, just stared up at him with large eyes. Was she scared of him? He couldn't blame her if so. He got down on his knees, ignoring the still-warm blood as it soaked from a small pool on the ground into his pants.

In the faint light emanating from the window, he could see the girl wore a sweatshirt with the profile of a fox on it. Underneath in cursive lettering, was the word Roxey. A brand? A famous kids' story character? He didn't know, but he latched onto the name.

"Okay, okay… how about we call you Roxey for now, and we'll figure out the rest later, hmm?" He tried to make his voice gentle. This was not his thing though. He had no experience with children – no good experiences, anyway, kidnappings notwithstanding.

She needed someone who knew what they were doing. Instantly, two faces popped into his mind. _Tifa and Cloud._ They would know what to do. _They_ were good with children.

"Let's get you out of here," he said. Would she flee if he startled her?

She shook her head at that and flinched when he reached for her. Of course she wouldn't trust him – not only had he been her mark, but it was his creature that had bitten her. He raised his hands, showing his palms.

"I'll take you somewhere we can get you patched up. After that, you can go wherever. Okay?" Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached a hand towards her.

After a moment, she nodded uncertainly and hesitantly took his hand. He was surprised at how relieved he was.

He worried how she might react to Vendetta, but she seemed oblivious to the guard hound as he helped her stand. Shock, perhaps.

After only a few blocks, he noticed that the girl was shaking slightly and her steps were stumbling and unsure. Shock? Fatigue? They were a long way from Seventh Heaven yet. Carefully, he scooped her into his arms. She didn't weigh much, and he was almost grateful for the physical exertion, the direction in which to physically channel the adrenaline.

Tifa and Cloud would take her in. It would be okay.

Suddenly, Tifa's words came back to him. _If you ever harm anyone again…_ She hadn't finished the threat. Close on the heels of that memory followed Cloud's voice. _Just don't do anything stupid._ His steps slowed. He was trying to help! But would they see it that way? Or would they only hear that Vendetta was responsible? Could he explain before they attacked? Would they give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out?

 _Probably not_.

He looked down at the girl in his arms. Her eyes had drifted shut and she rested trustingly – or perhaps just exhausted and weak from her injury – in his arms. He had nowhere else to go. _She_ had nowhere else to go. Resolutely, he resumed his course.

* * *

Hard to believe, but it's now been over a year since I started writing this. Thank you so much to all of you that have hung in there with it - I appreciate you taking the time to read this more than you know. A huge thank you to my beta's ScribeofRhapsody and ScribeofRED as well!

HUGE thank yous to guest and Stompy for their reviews on the last chapter. Made my day!

Oh, and welcome to our third and last planned OC. Lest some of you think that Roxey is a play off Kingdom Hearts' Roxas, let me explain how she came by that name. The character was developed long ago, but lacked a name. Since Vendetta is named for my cat, it only seemed fair that my dog should have equal press time - hence this OC came to be called Roxey even though her personality has nothing in common with my dog Roxie (and their names are spelled slightly different). I will post a pic of Roxie on my profile for the next week or so just for fun. And that is it for meaningless C & K trivia today.

Vendetta

2/26/16


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Chaos fully intended to leave the bar after talking to Valentine. Coming down the stairs, though, he was captured by the notes from the piano. The main room had emptied of the few remaining customers, leaving the princess slumped over asleep at one of the tables and Kenji typing up his report at the bar. Chaos kept his footfalls silent as he came up behind Tifa at the piano and listened. It was a peaceful melody. Relaxing. And it somehow fit with the glow she seemed to have about her tonight.

Not that music had any impact on him. Nope. If some tiny amount of the tension slid from his wings, that was no doubt due to getting further away from Valentine. Nothing else.

"I call it 'Flowers Blooming in the Church.' It's a song I wrote while thinking about Aerith." She spoke without turning. He hadn't thought she was even aware of his presence.

Aerith. Right. Stinking-flowers-and-Lifestream Aerith. Somehow, though, he couldn't quite conjure up the appropriate amount of bitterness. The song could almost be called pretty, if one was into that sort of thing. Which he definitely wasn't.

When the notes faded away, she smoothly transitioned into another song. A faster, more intense piece that caused his heart to beat more rapidly and made him want to _do_ something. Or it would if it had any effect on _him_ at all.

Focused on her fingers dancing across the keys, his back was to the door when it opened. The night was warm outside, so there was no change in temperature, but the air had a different feel to it. Tifa had just finished the song and turned to the doorway in synch with him.

What had the whelp gotten himself into this time? He stood there, just inside the doorway with a girl drooping in his arms and a smear on his cheek that could only be blood.

"Kadaj! What have you done?" Tifa demanded.

"Nothing… I– I haven't done anything… She just… she needs help." Silver hair hung over his face but didn't entirely conceal the helpless look on the remnant's face as he gently hefted the burden in his arms as if to accentuate his statement. For once, he appeared out of sarcastic quips, as vulnerable as Chaos had ever seen him.

"Mrgh… Hey, what's going on?" the sleepy ninja whined from her booth.

The doorway filled with another figure. _Cloud_.

Naturally, Cloud would pick this moment to return from his last delivery. Things just kept getting better and better. _Not_.

Picking up on the tension in the room and immediately noting the occupants, Cloud drew his sword. Chaos bristled at that. Even he could see the whelp wasn't armed. No doubt he had brought more trouble with him than he was worth, but the least they could do was hear him out.

"Ay, let's not get our knickers in a knot. Not till the bloke has a chance to explain." Typical: that the voice of reason would come not from any of the humans but from a stuffed otter of all things.

Tifa's stance relaxed some and she approached the remnant to take a closer look at the girl he held clenched to his chest. She extended her arms. "Here, let me take her upstairs and get her cleaned up."

The whelp relinquished his burden and turned wary eyes on Cloud. He opened his mouth, presumably to explain how he came to be on Seventh Heaven's threshold carrying a bloody, unknown girl. This had better be good. And the whelp had better not be thinking of dragging yet another stray into their apartment. Chaos wasn't interested in running a halfway house for wayward remnants, stray beasts, robotic castoffs, or lost kids. Not if he could help it.

"I didn't mean for anything to happen to her." Gone were the whelp's usual smart remarks and verbal jabs, and he turned his palms upward in a helpless gesture. Overall, though, that statement was not the best lead for convincing AVALANCHE of his innocence.

"Explain. Who is she?" Cloud's terse response conveyed his patience was at an end.

"Just a street kid. She got hurt. It was… an accident."

The slight hesitation didn't go unnoticed by Chaos – Cloud either, judging by the narrowing of his eyes.

"Please," Kadaj said.

Now there was a word he never thought he would hear from the kid's lips.

"Please," he continued, "you've taken in other children. Help her too."

"Kadaj… there are tons of street kids right now." Cloud put away his sword as he spoke. "The WRO has opened orphanages, but there simply aren't enough to meet the need. And a lot of street kids won't stay in them anyway. The WRO has set up relief stations to make food available to them. We can't take in every kid." Cloud sighed and glanced up the stairs in the direction Tifa had carried the girl. "We've got our hands full as it is. She can stay here through the night, and we'll get her injuries taken care of. Then, in the morning I'll see if I can get her signed up with the WRO. It's the best we can do."

"No! It's not!"

Ah, there was the Kadaj he knew – explosive and temperamental.

"Don't you dare turn her away on account of me. I don't care if you hate me forever, but don't take it out on _her_!"

"Kadaj… it's not that. Look, this… it's just bad timing."

The remnant snorted. "Is that right?"

"It's late. We're all tired. Go home, get some rest, and we'll talk about it in the morning."

The remnant's hair and clothing swirled as he swept out the door, slamming it as he went.

Kadaj had come in with his mask down, exposed and vulnerable, and Cloud had managed to rake up his defenses again. _Great_. For a hero, Cloud really had a knack for messing things up.

It could be worse, though. They hadn't come to blows. _Yet_. Chaos walked to the door and looked back at Cloud, only then noticing Valentine watching from the shadows of the stairwell. " **Cut the kid some slack, Strife**."

The otter scampered up and slipped through the door behind him.

Outside, he took a breath of the evening air. The lights were on, shining through the windows, in their upstairs apartment. Good. He had been half-worried the whelp would have taken off again. Not that he cared where the kid went or what he did. It wasn't any of his business – as long as he wasn't dragging more strays home.

The whelp was pacing when they entered.

" _It's just bad timing_? What does that even mean?" the kid ranted.

On second thought, maybe it would have been better if the whelp had gone somewhere else. No one was likely to get any rest if he persisted in throwing a tantrum for the rest of the night.

"Oh, I know what it means!" the otter burst out, having sat himself at the little kitchen table.

"What?" the kid practically shouted at him.

"Oh, well, um… I'm not actually sure I should say…"

" **It's a little late for second thoughts, muskrat** ," Chaos said as the whelp strode towards the otter with a determined look.

The otter squeaked and tugged nervously at his kerchief.

"Tell me." The remnant glared threateningly at the spy.

"Roight… well, see… Tifa's expectin'. They just found out."

Well, that was… unexpected. It did explain some things though. And in some ways it shouldn't come as a surprise. After all, Cloud and Tifa had been married for, what, almost a year now? As to how the otter knew, well, that would be something to look into…

"Expecting what?"

" **Oh, kid, sometimes I forget just how young you really are**."

"A baby," the otter offered helpfully.

"I'm _not_ a baby!"

"No, _Tifa's_ expectin' a baby."

The whelp looked like he'd been kicked in the gut.

* * *

 _Here's hoping some of you were as surprised by this news as Kadaj was. Please leave a review and let us know._

 _Speaking of reviews, many thanks to Stompy and Viking for reviewing chapter 22._

 _For those who are interested in such things, 'Flowers Blooming in the Church' and the other song Tifa plays here are from the original ffvii soundtrack._

 _Additional pointless C & K trivia of the week: When I originally pitched this story to my beta, she asked how long I was projecting the story to be. I responded that, it being my first story ever, I had no idea but suggested a rough guess of 23 chapters. Well, here we are, and you guessed it, we are quite some ways still from the climax/conclusion. Brevity does not appear to be my strength in writing. And that's your C & K trivia for this chapter._

 _Vendetta_

 _03/11/16_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Kadaj sat on his bed with his knees hugged against his chest. He hadn't been able to sleep at all. Thoughts swirled around in his head like a flock of birds that refused to land. He hoped the girl was okay. She might be a pickpocket, but he hadn't wanted her hurt. And now he felt a sort of… responsibility for her. He needed to make sure she was okay, taken care of.

How dare Cloud refuse to take her in? The question remained, niggling at the back of his mind: would he still have turned her away if someone else had brought her? Was Cloud's rejection of Roxey – he would continue to call her that until he learned her real name – more accurately a rejection of _him_?

Or was it the other thing? A _baby_. The word was a shock to his system. Why should it come as a surprise to him? That's what married people did: create families of their own. Had he really been holding on to some vague hope that _he_ could become part of their family? It was a ridiculous notion – one fit for a child. Well, he was no child. Never had been, really. And if he needed any confirmation that Cloud and Tifa had no need of him in their life, a baby should suffice.

The girl, though. Cloud had taken in Denzel. Maybe that was how redemption worked? Could _he_ take her under his wing? What did he know about raising children? Jenova had been no kind of mother to learn from. He paused in his thoughts. So much of his short life had been focused on his mother. But what of fathers? He had no role model as a father either, and his so-called "big brothers" were no frame of reference. Sephiroth, he only knew through their shared memories. And Cloud, while he had taken in other kids, had been no father-figure and not even a big brother to him. Loz and Yazoo were undisputedly his brothers, but not in the sense of being any kind of role models. He had no father figure at all. Could he do this? _Should_ he?

He still needed to locate his brothers. And Weiss. How did a street kid fit in with those things?

His life was a mess. Would the girl even want him interfering in her life? Could he be for Roxey what he had needed from Cloud? Would it be a step towards redemption? Who could he ask? Certainly not Cloud. Tifa? Valentine? No, once again he was left on his own. If there were answers to be found, he would find them on his own.

He glanced out the window. The remainder of the night had slipped away and the sun had made its appearance during his ruminations. A sudden urge to check on the girl coursed through him, and he rose, intent on his destination: Seventh Heaven.

He ignored Vendetta's crushed look when he bid her stay. He wasn't sure what Roxey would have told Cloud and Tifa, but he didn't want her around if they knew she was responsible for the girl's injuries.

"Ah, good, you're up then. The WRO has some information relevant to Weiss for you…" The otter trailed off when he gave him no acknowledgement and proceeded out the door.

Kadaj hissed with frustration when he found the door to Seventh Heaven locked and the sign flipped to proclaim the bar "closed." There was no reason he should have expected otherwise. Like many bars, Seventh Heaven kept late-night hours and didn't open until nearly noon.

If he could use materia, the door would be no obstacle to him – the thought curled through him and lodged as a craving. Even without materia, it should be no difficult thing to beat down the door and gain entrance. The temptation was strong. But no, that wasn't the entrance he wanted to make. He was here to offer asylum to the girl – to purchase his redemption – not to play the role of hot-tempered villain.

The door rattled from the other side, and he quickly rubbed his palms against his pants and summoned a mask of casual indifference.

* * *

Chaos opened the apartment door to boxes. Boxes? Half a moment later, he noticed the lanky redhead and his bald partner. _Turks_. In _his_ apartment.

The cat lounged placidly on the couch, licking her whiskers. Some "guard" hound.

He barely had time to inhale in preparation for the explosion he was going to unleash before Reno held his palms up in a nonthreatening gesture.

"Just makin' a delivery, yo."

Others might be fooled by the lackadaisical front: the untucked shirt, the slouching shoulders, the disinterested smile that said ' _hey, I'm just a lackey doin' as little as possible while still keepin' the job_.' No, the Turks might not be what they used to be back in Valentine's day, but he wasn't deceived into thinking there was anything but a keen mind and a dedicated soul behind the façade. Not that he was much inclined to giving Turks – former or present – much thought.

" **How did you get in here**?" Nothing bothered him quite like the invasion of his space. The incident in the warehouse where they engaged the whelp was one transgression too many already. It was too bad about the carpet though; it would be a real hassle to remove the blood stains.

"Er, actually, I let them in."

What part of home security and _not_ letting bloody Turks in did the otter not understand?

The threat in his mind must have been clear on his face because when the otter continued, he did so with a stammer.

"I-I… They were delivering the computers, see? No reason Shinra shouldn't foot the bill and all, yeah?"

" **Computers**?"

"Sure! How do you expect to learn anything stuck in the Darkies?"

That sounded much too close to an insult for his liking. He might recall the Dark Ages, but he would not have described himself as being stuck there. If he didn't know much about computers, well, that was just because he had never seen the point before.

"We were just leaving," the dark-skinned Turk added.

Well, fine. He would let them live this time, but only because they seemed to have been doing a service. That, and he had grown rather fond of their apartment as it was. Bloodstains would undoubtedly _not_ improve the household décor.

When the door had shut behind the Turks, he allowed his curiosity to reign and took a closer look at the complicated set-up that now occupied the desk by the window.

" **So, this is supposed to help us find Weiss again**?"

The otter nodded enthusiastically. "Yepper, let me give you a demonstration." The keyboard clicked rapidly as the otter initiated a search for "Weiss."

 _Shinra database clearance level: Restricted. Input passcode._

Well, it was silly to think it would be easy. The keyboard clicked some more.

 _Passcode accepted._

Well, how about that?

 _Weiss, 583 entries._

 _Weiss, cross-reference Deepground,_

 _Weiss, cross-reference Tsviet_

 _Weiss, cross-reference Hojo_

 _Weiss, cross-reference restrictors_

 _Weiss, cross-reference Nero_

Chaos did a double-take at the screen.

"Er, yeah, it might take a little while to comb through all the data, and some of the files from Deepground haven't been uploaded electronically yet. But it's a start, anyway."

Chaos watched silently as another search was performed. It seemed simple enough.

" **Move over**."

Chaos fought the urge to smash the keyboard as he slowly, agonizingly found each key he was looking for and poked it with his forefinger. How did the otter – stupid muskrat with worthless little paws – manage to key in his entries so fast?

If he so much as heard a single chuckle or glimpsed the hint of a smirk, the otter was so dead.

 _Deepground, 1561 entries._

Hmm. The otter was right: this was going to take some time. Well, the spy needed to earn his keep anyway.

He ran his tongue over his teeth before entering another search.

 _Chaos, disambiguation._

 _Chaos, state of disorder, 7 entries_

 _Chaos, demon, 75 entries_

 _Chaos, cross-reference Vincent Valentine_

 _Chaos, cross-reference Grimoire Valentine_

Not nearly as many entries as Weiss. And more than half of the entries were related to the Valentines. Chaos made a displeased sound in the back of his throat. He flicked through the entries. A few photos. Wait, did that one make him look cuddly? Someone needed a new lens on their camera. Scientific ramblings. He only glanced through those. He would come back to them later.

He was disappointed when the otter didn't so much as blink at his next entry. It was a long shot since he didn't even know the man's full name, but how many Kunsels could there be?

 _Kunsel, 1._

Apparently not that many. Grinning, he clicked the link.

 _Kunsel. Former SOLDIER Second-Class. Current employment: World Regenesis Order. Address: Unknown. Aliases: Unknown. Additional information: Redacted._

And not a single photo?

" ** _Redacted_**?" What did that even mean? Two thousand years should afford one some privileges, and he was pretty sure people _not_ using words he wasn't familiar with should be on the list. He didn't realize he had spoken aloud until the otter responded.

"Means edited or revised. Or in this case, removed."

He glanced at the otter, who seemed suddenly very engrossed in his paw. For someone so into others' secrets, Kunsel managed to lock down his own information tighter than a Shinra brand safety deposit box.

" **Hnn** …"

* * *

Happy Easter!

Huge thank you to Luna and Stompy for their reviews of the last chapter! I so appreciate you reviewers and it means a lot to me that you take the time to comment on specific events from the chapter. Thank you!

This chapter would have worked a little better if fanfiction did not insist on removing any kind of formatting, but here's hoping the concept of the computer outputs is clear even without.

By the way, if you happen to like Kunsel, I highly recommend "Great Minds" by TheScreamingViking.

Thanks for reading!

Vendetta

03/25/16


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Kadaj was relieved to catch a glimpse of Roxey through the doors into the back of Seventh Heaven. She, like the two kids next to her, was balancing a bowl of cereal on her lap while watching a cartoon. Beyond the kids, the Wutainese ninja sprawled on the end of the couch. With eyes also glued to the television, she could almost have been mistaken for a fourth child.

The street kid appeared recovered from the incident the previous night, but a bulkiness under her shirt suggested heavy bandaging of her shoulder. A pang of guilt assaulted him.

"Kadaj." Tifa shut the door behind him, leaving the "Closed" sign facing outward. "Come in and have a seat. Cloud will be down in a minute."

 _Great_. Cloud. Kadaj slipped into the booth Tifa indicated, although he would have preferred to be standing for when Cloud came down. He raised an eyebrow at the cup of coffee she set before him. With any luck he would be out of there in far less time than it took to drain a cup. This wasn't a social call.

Cloud descended the stairs, dressed for the day but with hopelessly mussed hair. Then again, that might just be his normal look.

As always, the swordsman's presence made Kadaj feel on edge.

"My congratulations to the happy couple." Kadaj put just the right amount of sarcasm his opening salvo. His need to push them away was a living thing inside him, well fed on last night's rejection.

Tifa and Cloud froze, and then shared a look.

"Where did you hear that?" Cloud asked carefully.

"Nowhere of importance," he hedged. A smile – a smirk? – tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was glad to have succeeded in putting them on edge too, at least that way he wouldn't be the only off-balance person in the room. And it seemed small recompense for the feelings their refusal had left him with the prior night.

Which brought him back to the girl.

"How is Roxey?" He nodded to the other room where the children were still watching television.

Cloud looked unsure as to whether he was ready to let the previous topic go, but Tifa responded, "Roxey – that's her name? We haven't been able to get her to talk at all, so we weren't sure."

"It's just a nickname." Somehow he didn't feel like explaining that he had taken the liberty of giving her the name that was on her shirt. What had seemed perfectly logical in yesterday's late hours suddenly seemed like an overstepping of grand proportion in the light of morning.

Tifa nodded. "Cloud told me about your request: that you'd like her to stay here for now. I'm sorry, you kind of caught us off guard last night. It was late and, well… we've talked it over and want to give her a chance. She can stay here with us for now."

Cloud nodded in confirmation.

It was like having the wind kicked out of him – not entirely unlike falling from the derricks in his fight with Weiss. How _dare_ Cloud do this to him? Just when he had made a plan? He slid a fingertip along his arm in an effort to calm himself. How _dare_ Cloud steal his bid for redemption out from under him?

"Who says she even _wants_ to stay with you?"

"Kadaj, I thought you would be happy? I thought this was what you wanted?" Tifa twisted to look at Cloud, clearly questioning the sequence of events as he had relayed them to her.

He was being selfish and petty, and he knew it. He should be thinking of Roxey's best interests, but a part of him didn't want to stop pressing against Cloud. With effort, he reined in the contrary desire to oppose them.

"I am. Happy, that is," he ground out. "She deserves the best." _And that wasn't him_. "Can I talk to her?"

Kadaj resented the momentary pause that followed. He could easily imagine the distrustful thoughts Cloud and Tifa were no doubt having about him.

"Yeah, sure. I'll just go get her." Tifa got up and headed for the back room.

Which left him alone with Cloud. _Great_.

"You did a good thing… bringing her here." Cloud's comment completely took him by surprise and before he knew what to say back, Tifa had returned with Roxey, her cereal bowl still clasped in her hands.

Cloud and Tifa left them alone and went to tidy up the bar across the room while the girl slipped into the booth opposite him.

She gazed at him with large eyes and raised one hand to brush snarled hair back from her face.

Now that she sat across from him, he had no idea what to say to her. A ribbon of relief that she would be staying with Cloud and Tifa and _not_ him flowed through him, contradicting the anger and disappointment he had felt moments before. He really didn't know what to do with kids.

He smiled tentatively. "Hey."

She waved her fingers at him.

"Glad to see you're feeling better today. Um, what's your name?"

She shook her head silently at him. He glanced down at the stained shirt she still wore, the fox's face partially obscured by dried blood.

"Okay, so… you're okay if I just call you Roxey?"

A slow nod.

"Okay, okay." He reprimanded himself internally for having nothing more intelligent to say. "Um, Cloud and Tifa said you could stay here. You'd like that, right? That is, if there's not somewhere else you want to go."

Roxey's eyes strayed from her empty cereal bowl to the couple over at the bar and then back to him. He got the impression she would like to say something, so why didn't she? Trauma? Who knew what things she had been through besides the mauling last night? Maybe she was born mute? It wasn't anything personal against him, he knew, because she hadn't spoken to Tifa either.

"They'll keep you safe. They're nice people." He put as much sincerity into the words as he could. After all, he did believe them, even if it galled him to say it.

Slowly, the girl nodded again.

"You'll see, things will work out for you." Even if they never had for him – he would make sure of it. "Would you… would you like me to come visit again?" Funny how nervous he was waiting for her answer.

Her nod came without hesitation this time, warming a part of him he hadn't realized was cold. He smiled at her and slipped out of the booth.

"See you around then, kid," he said as Tifa crossed the room to rejoin them. His eyes sought out Cloud, leaving with a delivery in his arms. The blond nodded at him before closing the door behind him.

Kadaj looked at Tifa, silently telling her the conversation – one-sided as it was – had been productive.

Tifa bent down to whisper to Roxey, "Hey, sweetie, why don't you go finish watching cartoons with Denzel and Marlene, and afterwards I'll brush your hair for you?"

The girl complied, leaving her empty bowl on the table.

"Did she say anything?" Tifa inquired after the girl was out of earshot. "She hasn't said a single word to anyone since she got here," she added when he shook his head in response.

"She agreed to stay with you and Cloud. I… well, thank you for that."

"You're welcome, Kadaj." Her eyes sought his, a serious look on her face. "Her shoulder is going to be fine. She's got two deep lacerations that look like they came from some kind of animal." She continued to study his face. "I'll believe you if you say it was a monster attack, but it wasn't, was it?"

The lie was there on the tip of his tongue: an easy denial of responsibility. It wouldn't hurt anyone, not really. He opened his mouth, and shut it again. Somehow it wasn't right. It wasn't right to lie to Tifa when she had gone out on a limb to take Roxey in at his request.

"Tell me if she says anything." He turned his back on her and stepped across the room to watch the kids a few minutes more.

A commercial came on the set, depicting a fluffy purple chocobo plushie that squawked, "Wark, wark," when its beak was stroked. The ad was ignored by all but the street child, who watched with riveted attention and a hungry look.

By the end of the commercial, Kadaj held his cell phone in his palm and was copying the flashing digits from the television onto the smaller screen of his phone.

* * *

The otter had the head tilt and look of internal concentration Chaos had come to associate with him receiving information from Kunsel. "There's been an explosion. In Kalm."

" **Weiss**?"

"Can't be sure, but most likely."

" **What could he be up to in Kalm**?" The explosion on the Gongagan mountainside, it turned out, had been planned to expose the natural Mako fountain there, presumably for the purpose of acquiring new materia. But Kalm? The little town had no natural Mako reserves – hence the reason Shinra never established a reactor there – and not much else to speak of. Its population had grown after Meteorfall when residents of Midgar emigrated there in the wake of its destruction, but the town's economy mostly consisted of trade, sending out caravans across the continent and bringing back goods that could be marketed. Nothing that would suggest the quiet town as a military or terrorist target.

The otter shrugged. "The WRO has teams on the ground in Kalm, but they're focusin' their efforts mostly on extractin' victims and are in triage mode now. Could be days or weeks before the investigation can reveal anything certain about who or why."

" **Hnn… Kunsel thinks we should go check it out**?"

"Nah, mate. He wants us on scene at the next most likely site of action. We can't be sure, but Kunsel is willing to take a risk on it and have you in place before anything happens. Plus, Shinra has some records stored there that haven't been made available electronically yet. Two birds with one stone, yah know? So, he's arranged a helicopter and wants us there by tomorrow morning."

Smart – trying to guess the opponent's next move and outmaneuver him. Distantly, Chaos wondered if Kunsel had ever played chess.

" **And 'there' would be**?"

He didn't like the nervous look the otter was giving him. No, he did not.

"Er, Nibelheim?"

Nibelheim? It made sense, there were known natural Mako fountains in the Nibel mountains. It even made sense that Shinra would have records there, but it was about the last place he wanted to visit. It was in the labs under the mansion there that he had been fused with Valentine in nightmarish experiments. More nightmarish for the Turk than him, but still…

" **Hnn** …" He absently rubbed his shoulder where Weiss had cut him.

* * *

Many thanks to Luna, Viking, and Stompy for their reviews of last chapter, and to all the reviewers that have brought the total number of reviews to over 50!

And we're off to Nibelheim...

Vendetta

04/08/16


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Kenji had mentioned that Kunsel had arranged a helicopter to get them to Nibelheim. Somehow, the otter had failed to mention it wasn't a WRO chopper. Chaos glared at the red Shinra logo, unmistakable against the gleaming black metal. The otter's absence suddenly seemed more suspicious than it had when he first mentioned needing to visit the WRO headquarters and not being able to accompany them on the trip west – the sneaky muskrat!

The helicopter hadn't even come to a full rest before the redheaded Turk was leaning out yelling, "Well, whatcha waitin' for? We haven't got all day, yo!"

Oh, joy. Chaos glanced at the whelp. If his face was anything to go by, being stuck in a flying tin can with Turks for hours on end wasn't his idea of a good time either.

In retrospect, if it had just been the redhead – or if he had been accompanied by his silent partner, or even Tseng – things would not have been so bad. As it was, the blonde lady Turk was supposed to be gaining experience by piloting the chopper. Whoever thought having one of the whelp's former captives fly this mission was a good idea… well, Chaos had a few ideas about what should be done to them.

"Eyes on the flight path, Laney!" her instructor directed on the third occasion her eyes slid over her shoulder to glare at the whelp.

"Yes, sir." Her response was more of a grumble than the crisp reply he recalled from Valentine's encounters with the Turks over the years. Then again, Reno didn't exactly inspire the same professionalism as Tseng.

From then on, the flight was pretty silent – apart from some off-tune humming from the redhead – until they set down to refuel in North Corel. Chaos would have almost welcomed the chatty otter on this trip. Not that he minded silence generally, but the dreadful tension in the aircraft and the clear animosity of the blonde Turk made his wings twitchy.

In North Corel – where fuel was now very cheap given the oil reserves being tapped there – Reno jumped out to redirect the fueling.

The whelp gazed out the window, the giant black head of his pet resting in his lap. Maybe if the kid had some time alone with the pilot they could work out their differences? Besides, his legs could use a stretch. Chaos opened the hatch with a creak and hopped to the ground.

North Corel was a lifeless place, and it didn't take long for him to grow bored of walking around. He returned to the chopper at the same time Reno finished supervising the refueling. Both were in range to hear the blonde's final comment.

" _You may have everyone else fooled, but I still know what you are: a monster_."

Oops, perhaps alone time wasn't the wisest idea after all. He found he didn't like anyone talking to _his_ whelp that way but him. Was it so much to ask for the lady Turk to put one little incident of torture behind her? After all, Valentine _had_ rescued her in time. He opened his mouth to give her a tongue-lashing to remember, but the redhead beat him to it.

"The job's to fly to Nibelheim, Laney, not to run yer mouth."

Chaos shut his mouth in surprise. _Hnn_ …

The rest of the flight was completed in silence. It was well into the night, so it was possible the whelp was sleeping, but Chaos doubted that was the case.

Once they set down outside of Nibelheim, the Turks stayed with the helicopter while Chaos and Kadaj headed for the town. Night had fled on the flight out, and the light of dawn was reflecting off the heavy dew as they made their way into the small village. On the mountainside high above, the Mako reactor squatted, its dark metal stark against the spring snows that lingered in the elevations.

Nibelheim was nothing like Gongaga. Though they entered a variety of businesses, the people were standoffish to the point of rudeness. All in all, Chaos reasoned, he should feel much more at home here. But he didn't. Strangely, he found himself nostalgic for Gongaga's disgusting friendliness. The whelp seemed equally ill at ease and kept quiet when they weren't actively interviewing the populace.

Both Gongaga and Nibelheim were rural communities of small population on the western continent. What could account for the difference in the two towns' attitudes? Ah, that was right – these were not Nibelheim's _original_ occupants. The population had been decimated during Sephiroth's tirade years ago and all remaining survivors later eliminated by Shinra in one of the greatest cover-ups known to the Planet.

These, then, would be the people Shinra had brought in to act as replacements for the slain – to live a lie and maintain Shinra's ugly secrets. One could only guess what horrors Shinra held over their heads to convince them to move here and take up this pretense. And if some of them had been lured out to this forsaken place on the promise of money… well, no doubt that had dried up the moment old man Shinra kicked the bucket. The unlucky stand-ins would have had little choice but to continue on in their assumed roles. Yep, that could build up some bitterness.

The idea that a town could have a soul was ludicrous, but in contrast to Gongaga – or even Edge – the only fitting word for Nibelheim was _soulless._

He looked up at the water tower with its slowly turning windmill for a moment before following Kadaj into the tavern. Something about the windmill's relentless turning put him in mind of an hourglass with its sands draining away.

Inside, he declined the drink the kid offered him, remembering all too well its odd taste from having tried it in Gongaga.

No one admitted to any knowledge of Weiss – or anything else helpful to their investigations – which didn't necessarily mean they didn't have any relevant information, just that they were tightlipped about disclosing it if they did have such knowledge. Indeed, getting answers from the people of Nibelheim was proving to be a lot like getting diamonds from coal: maybe it was possible, but it would take more pressure than they were able to apply and way more time than they had to give.

At last, they turned in the direction of the mansion. Truly, Shinra Mansion was the last place he wanted to visit, but it was where they would find the archives containing the answers they needed, at least according to the otter.

He might have sent the whelp on alone to retrieve the files, but not without risking the whelp guessing at his reasons, and that was… unacceptable.

He stepped through the doorway behind the kid and paused, waiting to see what memories assailed him.

Nothing. It was just a big, empty house, dusty with neglect.

They ignored the upwards winding staircase and sought a route to the basement where the archives would be stored – and where the labs were also located.

It was here that he had been imprisoned, experimented on, and fused with Valentine. His heart sped up involuntarily at the memories as the steps led them lower into the cavern-like depths below the mansion.

On second thought, he told himself, most likely his heart was just working harder due to the elevation. That made more sense than thinking it had anything to do with emotions. _He_ wasn't affected by the past; _he_ was Chaos.

So far, nothing was familiar. He had been a captive in the labs, not given the liberty to roam the main corridors.

He passed the entrance to the labs, silently directing the kid to check them out. Not because he needed more time to steady himself before entering that place of torture. No, he merely wanted to look around the rest of the basement and ascertain that there were no monsters present. Yep, that was it.

He paused at a door to his left, a whisper of a memory reminding him this was where Valentine – and he, by default – had slept for nearly thirty years. He pushed open the door and stood in its entrance for a moment, taking in the coffins stacked along the walls and the supine one in the center of the room. He shoved aside an array of emotions before they could further declare themselves – or, worse, dig their greedy claws into him – and stepped out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

The labs, then. He could handle them. After all, he was the great and mighty Chaos, the conqueror of Omega.

His eyes found the whelp as he entered. Already the kid was digging through old journals strewn about the surfaces of the lab.

He was in the lab and he was fine. Ha! He took a breath in triumph.

And gagged. The smells lingered here even after decades of abandonment: stale Mako, antiseptics, and other smells he couldn't identify but which were engraved in his mind. Dry heaves overtook him, and he was grateful he had declined the whelp's offer of a drink back in the town.

That had better not be concern – or worse yet, pity – on the kid's face either. He was fine. Absolutely fine. He straightened, cautious to breathe shallowly through his mouth and lessen the effects of the lab's scent. It wasn't even a strong scent, but his kind were particularly tuned into the olfactory senses, and they triggered memories that the visuals alone did not.

The whelp raised an eyebrow and returned to his perusing without comment. _Good boy_. He gave the whelp a mental pat on the head.

It was a slow process, sorting through volumes of erudite scientific ramblings – none of which were organized in any kind of systematic way – to determine which were relevant and then hauling boxes of them laboriously up the stairs and piling them in front of the mansion. The process helped take his mind off the labs and what had been done to him there.

Still, he was not a mule and resented grunt work on principle – with a passion. Where were those Turks? Staying to "guard" the Shinra helicopter? Somehow, he was coming to doubt that was their primary agenda in staying behind, at least as far the cagey redhead was concerned.

He cast a look at the cat curled up sleepily in a corner of the lab, as useless as any Turk. Clearly he was doing something wrong if he was acting like a bloody pack animal while Turks and cats and the like rested carefree.

The sound of a text pinging to the cell phone provided by Valentine surprised them both. The arrangement had been for them to call the Turks once they had acquired the needed documents. Something must have happened to change that plan. A Weiss sighting, perhaps? That was, after all, one of their primary objectives in having come to this forsaken town in the first place.

He leaned over the teen's shoulder to read the text.

 _2:50 PM Roxey is missing – Tifa_

* * *

Sorry the trip to Nibelheim got cut short. I would have loved to have had more time to explore there. Chaos isn't sad about leaving though.

Big thanks to all who followed, favorited and reviewed! Special welcome to new reviewer Megatron!

Also, thanks again to my beta, ScribeOfRhapsody, for all her help throughout the past year.

Vendetta

04/22/16


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Kadaj found himself leaning forward as if he could compel the chopper to make better speed by will alone. He forced himself to lean back into the flight seat, but his muscles remained clenched.

It had been agony, waiting for the Turks to bring the helicopter over and then loading the boxes of files and journals. If it had been up to him, they would have left them there in a heap and flown immediately back to Edge, but Chaos refused, which only served to increase Kadaj's irritation and sense of urgency. He _needed_ to find Roxey.

Logically, he knew the girl had, in all likelihood, spent considerable time living on the streets and chances were she was fine. Not so logically, his mind conjured all manner of disasters that could have befallen her. The best case scenario was she had returned to pickpocketing… and that explanation led to all kinds of envisioned horrors. She wasn't even that good of a pickpocket – what happened if she chose the wrong mark? Perverts, materia junkies, criminals… Vendetta's attack began to look like nothing in comparison to the possible outcomes his imagination contrived.

He tried calling Tifa, but whether it was the mountain range they were flying over or the weather that had set in, cell reception was non-existent.

At least the storm meant Elena was fully focused on flying the craft and didn't have time to cast nasty looks at him.

"Reno, don't you think it would be better if you took over until we get through this? I can learn by watching you." This wasn't the first time she had indicated a desire for him to take over piloting until they were through the storm.

"How do ya expect to learn anything if ya only fly in optimum conditions?" In contrast to Elena's tense voice, Reno's sounded mildly excited by the storm front. "Do you know the difference between the turbulence ya feel in a fixed wing versus a chopper?"

"Uh, no?"

"That right there is sign of the times. Now, a plane, she flies at a higher altitude and…" If Reno was aware of Elena's discomfort, he wasn't showing it.

Kadaj would have been more irritated with the redhead's thrill over the weather if he weren't so grateful they weren't insisting on landing and waiting the storm out – which would be the sensible thing to do in these conditions. Apparently, though, the Turk motto was "There's no mission impossible for the Turks," which struck him as a rather stupid motto for people without any augmentations, but again, he wasn't complaining. He pushed away the vague recollection of a Turk-flown chopper crashing into the structures of Edge. That was during his mad rush to escape with Mo– no he hadn't thought of her by that name in a long while, and he wouldn't now – Jenova's remains.

He tuned the Turks out as Reno continued to coach Elena through handling downdrafts by employing maximum power to establish a high rate of climb speed… and so on. He really didn't care how they got there; he just wanted to be back in Edge. He stared out the window, but between the clouds and the rain streaking down the windows at a slant, he couldn't see anything.

Thankfully, the storm cleared by the time they set down for a quick refueling in North Corel. This time, he noticed, Chaos didn't leave the craft.

Kadaj was able to re-establish cell service intermittently as the chopper crossed above the pristine waters just beyond Costa del Sol, but the sound of the helicopter was too loud for him to hear anything, and he lost signal again shortly.

It seemed to take forever to cross the ocean, but once they were over the mainland again, he felt the telltale vibration of his phone. Pulling it loose, he hurriedly opened the text.

 _6:47 PM Roxey has returned. Seems fine. Hasn't spoken. We should talk. Come by when you get back – Tifa_

He glanced at the time: 10:21 PM. The message had come in while he hadn't had service. At least Roxey was safe. He let out a breath and felt the tightness in his chest ease. If his hair wasn't already silver, he would have some new gray hairs at this point. Was this what it was like to have children? If so, he could do without the added worry.

His phone vibrated with another delayed message:

 _8:03 Boss requests your return asap. Riots breaking out over Kalm refugees. WRO and Shinra trying to keep the peace and calling in reinforcements – Kenji_

* * *

The first indicator that anything was out of the ordinary was the scent of smoke on the night air. Not the scent of wood smoke like the campfires gave off when they spent the night in the wilderness, but the heavy, acrid smell of manmade materials burning. For the second time in one day, Chaos was _not_ grateful for his species' superior sense of smell.

Kenji met them at the landing site, a tall flat-topped building in the center of Edge. Also present was the Turks' leader – Tseng.

"Reno, I want you to join up with Rude over in the northeastern quadrant to protect the hospital. You'll also be responsible for protecting any injured civilians in the area that are trying to reach the facility. I've appointed twenty men to assist under your direction."

Huh. Apparently, the Turks would be coordinating with the WRO in this crisis. Part of him wanted to be surprised. Not even he would have guessed a Shinra – any Shinra – could come to hold power again after the disasters that could be laid at the feet of that name: the war in Wutai, the dubious acts of the Science Department, Meteorfall, the Geostigma, and Deepground, among others. Then again, there was that old saying about scum rising to the top.

"Roger that." The redhead gave his superior a sloppy salute as he finished a last minute check on the chopper.

"Elena, I want you with me. We'll be marshalling forces in central Edge to support the WRO troops that are managing the riots on the outskirts."

It all fit in with a larger picture Chaos had been observing over the course of the past month. Somehow, young Rufus was making headway in promoting himself as a philanthropist and democratic leader of the people. Not only was he publically setting up an institute of higher education in Edge, but somehow word had gotten out that he was the major source of funding behind the WRO – and if that was by accident, then _he_ was Zirconiade.

It didn't seem to occur to any of his supporters that amassing a small force of armed and trained guards might be contrary to the image of 'philanthropist'– but then, humans could be singularly oblivious when they set their minds to it. Ultimately, they were rather like sheep – except sheep tasted better – and would readily sacrifice their freedoms for a sense of familiarity. Whatever else could be said about them – and that was rather a lot – the Shinras were familiar, having held the monopoly on power in Midgar for decades.

No, Rufus' return to power was no accident. Neither was Chaos blind to the fact that the whelp and he had also been roped into his employ. Modern times made for the oddest of bedfellows.

"Yes, sir!" Elena chirped.

What about riot control elicited that much enthusiasm?

The subordinate Turks finished securing the helicopter and took their leave, but not without one last hateful look thrown over the lady Turk's shoulder. Speaking of things that felt familiar…

"Chaos, Kadaj, you're to report to WRO headquarters and will be deployed from there."

"No. I have other business to attend to."

The whelp's hair hung in front of his face, so Chaos couldn't make out his features, but he'd wager money the expression there was dangerous. _Other business_ could only refer to checking on the street kid he was so obsessed over. Why the whelp felt the need to check on her, he couldn't say – Tifa had already told him she was fine. Still, best he support the kid before this escalated – plus, the possibility of a warm cinnamon roll was a strong lure.

" **The deal was to find Weiss, not work as Shinra lackeys**."

"Easy, mates. What part of helpin' save Edge don't yah want to be part of?" the otter weighed in on the side of the Turk. Disloyal little muskrat.

"I'll help." Kadaj wasn't making eye contact with any of the Turks. "I just have to do something first."

"Roight." The otter pushed his cowboy hat further back on his head. "Well, best make it snappy and then meet up over at the WRO headquarters. Boss wants to get this situation under control before more people get hurt."

Tseng nodded his approval, and left with the otter bounding along.

" **Let's go, whelp**." Indeed, a cinnamon roll would be most welcome. He sincerely hoped his love of the sweet rolls wasn't causing him to lose his touch and go soft.

They didn't have far to go to reach Seventh Heaven, but the evidence of rioting and looting was everywhere. There were areas in Edge that were seedy in general – where materia addicts hung out and small-time crime lords made their domains – but this was different, extending into the safest and most innocuous regions of the city. The typical Edge inhabitants that might have been out on a warm evening were absent, and in their place were pockets of individuals shouting slogans – most of which were indecipherable for one reason or another.

"Go back to Kalm, or feel our fangs," was the one he heard clearly – an obvious, if sloppy, play on the monster named for the region: the Kalm Fang.

Smashed glass crunched underfoot as they passed in front of businesses with busted out windows. It was hard to believe they had been gone less than forty-eight hours. More often than not, the people they saw were hauling away items looted from businesses and homes. Though, how people thought breaking into the businesses of Edge was in any way a legitimate form of protest against Kalm refugees was beyond him. Most likely, he guessed, the bombings in Kalm and subsequent events only served as excuses for the humans to act on their baser natures. Another point for sheep over humans: sheep were rarely violent.

Not the least ironic was the fact that many of the Kalm refugees the so-called protestors were decrying had previously been residents of Midgar and had only fled to Kalm in the wake of the destruction wrought by Meteorfall. Now, upon their return they were being regarded as outsiders and a threat. _Stupid humans_. Not that he cared if they all killed each other off… no, it was just unfortunate they didn't taste as good as mutton.

One looter, carrying a television he could barely hold and which blocked the better portion of his vision, bumped roughly into Chaos. _Good_ – just the opportunity he needed. He shoved the vandal against the brick wall of the nearest building. The television smashed to bits where it fell against the concrete walk. Chaos let every one of his pointed teeth show as he smiled into the face of his captive. He half expected to hear from the Inner Voice, but apparently threatening a thug wasn't in violation of their implicit truce – which, while vague, seemed to revolve around certain limits like not hurting innocent sentient beings – because the Inner Voice remained silent.

When he was good and sure the hoodlum would be needing a change of clothes, he hurled him away and watched as he scrambled off.

Nope, he hadn't lost his touch.

* * *

Many thanks to Stompy for reviewing! And a warm welcome to new reviewer Atsuko!

Reviews are like a mix of candy, a hug, and a sunny spring day. Thank you!

Vendetta

05/06/16


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The bar was closed as a safety precaution against the unrest in Edge, but Tifa let them in at the whelp's knock. The kids had already gone to bed, and she led them to the back room to talk. Valentine and Yuffie were also back in town due to the rioting, and Cloud was out with them helping restore the peace. It was strange to see the bar so quiet.

The whelp attempted – and failed – to hide the object he had retrieved from the apartment. Chaos snickered quietly – it was the most amusing thing he had seen all day. If someone had told him just months ago that he would catch the kid carrying around a stuffed purple chocobo, he would have laughed in their face. Reality was stranger than fiction, for sure.

They had barely stepped through the doorway into Seventh Heaven's back room when the cat's hackles rose in a ridge of black fur and her tentacle whipped back and forth with a crisp snapping sound.

The guard hound crouched and growled, Kadaj drew Souba, and Tifa shouted, "Wait!"

Another large feline-shaped animal rose to meet them, illuminated by its flame-tipped tail waving in the dark room. Kadaj had taken two steps towards the creature before Chaos grabbed his arm and dragged him back.

" **You won't endear yourself to our host if you kill one of her friends, whelp**."

"Friends?" Kadaj glanced at Tifa and back to the red-colored feline, who stood absolutely still, giving the kid a chance to look him over.

"It's just Nanaki!" Tifa said to Kadaj, causing him to finally lower his sword.

A light of recognition dawned in the whelp's eyes. He had, after all, encountered the lionesque creature before – unfortunately the kid was too busy trying to destroy the Planet at the time to get acquainted.

Of all Valentine's assorted friends, Chaos harbored the least hostility towards this one. At least he was fairly quiet, unlike certain other members. Sure, Nanaki's pacifist attitude was annoying as flies in honey – and don't get him started on the relentless, maddening drumming of Cosmo Canyon – but he found he could tolerate this other non-human member of AVALANCHE. Indeed, he even knew what it was like to be the last of one's kind – not that _he_ particularly missed his kind. Chaos hadn't even protested when Valentine pledged to meet annually with the lonesome feline throughout their long lifespans – even though the gesture was hopelessly mawkish.

The whelp was looking at his pet, whose black fur still stood at right angles over her shoulder blades. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into her. She's not normally this reactive."

" **The last time she came across something large and four-legged and beastly, she ended up torn to shreds and sporting stitches like a fashion statement**."

"Oh." The whelp rested a hand on her head and smoothed the fur between her ears.

"Ah… Kadaj, meet Nanaki. Nanaki, meet Kadaj… and well, you already know Chaos… sort of," Tifa introduced.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Nanaki tipped his head to both of them in a formal manner.

It was a credit to Tifa's skill at pacifying – she'd had considerable practice courtesy of AVALANCHE – and Nanaki's skill at projecting an aura of harmless refinement that they could go from bared sword to benign introductions.

Tifa poured tea for each of them except Nanaki – who accepted a bowl of milk – and the guard hound who refused to remain in the room. Nanaki's repeated, polite offers to remove himself for the cat's comfort were declined – and frankly, becoming annoying. What business did any one creature have with so much courteousness? He didn't mind the stripy red feline, but one could only stomach so much _niceness_.

Kadaj picked up a flyer depicting an undeniably decent likeness of the street girl.

"It's good, isn't it? Denzel sketched that for us so we could get the word out and find Roxey faster." Tifa finished with the tea and sat across from the whelp, who grunted and folded a copy of the flyer before stuffing it in a chest pocket.

"Kadaj, I'm worried about Roxey," Tifa began once they were settled.

The whelp stiffened and looked to the door. "Why? Is she in danger?"

"No, no, it's not like that," Tifa placated. "She's upstairs in bed, perfectly safe."

"So, what is the problem?" Kadaj eased marginally back into his chair, but Chaos picked up on the residual stiffness in his spine. His hair partially obscured his face but not the dangerous note in his voice.

"She still hasn't talked. Then she slipped away for hours today, and we still have no idea where she went. It's dangerous enough out there when there isn't a riot going on. She's also been hoarding food. I found a stash under her bed when we were looking for her."

What was so wrong with that? Chaos wasn't one to fault someone for having a cache of food. In fact, it made perfect sense to him. Not that he was going to mention anything to that effect. His kind had a saying: if you've nothing mean and nasty to say, say nothing at all.

"I don't want to talk about this now," the whelp clipped out. "I want to see her."

"Okay, you can look in on her for a second," Tifa said in resignation and led them back out and up the stairs.

Light from the hallway gently illuminated the upstairs bedroom. Kadaj stood and watched Roxey's sleeping form for several minutes before stepping further in and settling the purple plushie against the crook of her arm. Sentimental whelp.

* * *

The unrest had mostly subsided by the early hours of the morning, but the night shift wasn't released until they were replaced with a day shift at dawn – the WRO was determined to get the situation under control and keep it that way.

Kadaj pulled off a glove and rubbed the back of his neck. He was exhausted. Given the uncomfortable flight with the Turks to Nibelheim, the long day of hauling boxes of files and journals up a steep staircase, the tense flight back, and then an entire night of patrolling the streets and providing their assistance with "conflict resolution" as Chaos called it, he hadn't had any sleep in the last two and a half days.

He collapsed onto his bed without removing his boots. His eyes had no more than closed when his phone pinged. He was tempted, _so_ tempted, to ignore it. He could always say the battery was dead. In fact, it was amazing it wasn't yet – good old Shinra technology.

Groaning, he fumbled for his phone and, not bothering to sit up, lifted the screen to where he could read it.

Roxey was missing again.

And that wasn't the entirety of it. Tifa's face when he arrived at the bar made his stomach do flip-flops. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news.

Behind him, Chaos sniffed the air, his sole reason for accompanying Kadaj ostensibly the hope that there would be fresh-baked cinnamon rolls – a hope which was dashed when they saw Denzel and Marlene in the back with bowls and boxes of cold cereal. Kadaj ignored his disappointed grunt. Food wasn't _his_ reason for being there.

Kadaj slid into the booth across from Tifa, and the otter took the space next to her. Why Kenji had come, he couldn't say, but then he didn't require sleep the way the others did. Vendetta commenced her grooming routine at their feet. Chaos elected to remain standing, to all appearances uninterested in the conversation at hand.

"I don't know if she can stay here, Kadaj," Tifa said. "The food hoarding was one thing, but this morning I found knives under her bed."

"Knives?"

"Yes, three of them from the kitchen. I want to help her, but frankly, I'm not entirely sure how. Maybe she would be better off with someone more experienced."

There it was again. _Rejection_. He shouldn't be surprised – he ought to have guessed where things were headed after last night's conversation. He kicked himself for not being more prepared for this.

Well, he had considered it before, so why not now? "Maybe I'll take care of her myself."

"She can't stay with you." Her look encompassed Chaos, Vendetta, and Kenji along with him.

" **Exactly**!"

He frowned at Chaos.

" **What? You can't seriously expect me to argue in favor of bringing another stray home? The otter and the cat are bad enough – at least they don't need a bed**."

"I'll sleep on the couch," he offered.

Kenji's mouth dropped open in protest and then shut again, whiskers twitching. He mentally apologized to the otter – who had claimed the couch for his own – but this was far more important.

 **" _Wait_** …" Chaos was looking at Tifa, her words – and implications – having finally sunk in." **Just _what_ are you implying**?"

"Well, you're… you're… She just can't."

Her meaning could hardly be plainer. A remnant, a demon, and a robot spy: not suitable caregivers. _Not suitable anything_ , a traitorous thought whispered.

" **Hnn**..."

* * *

In the privacy of his own room, Chaos hissed. He was used to injuries. Usually, he just ignored the pain until the healing forces in his body resolved it. The wound Weiss had dealt him in Gongaga should have been barely a twinge by now.

This was more than a twinge. Shoving the looter against the wall must have reinjured it.

When he stopped pushing the pain away and let it come, it was a gnawing ache eating at him and then receding into numbness before opening its maw to eat at him once again.

He peeled back the leather clothing to look at his shoulder. In two thousand years – give or take – he had come in contact with a variety of infected injuries. Not that he made a habit of going around examining putrefying wounds, but he'd seen a few in the course of events.

This was like none of those.

The color was leaching away to leave his flesh a sickly gray color – like ash.

* * *

Many thanks to reviewers Luna and Stompy!

Vendetta

05/20/16


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The boiling rage Kadaj had witnessed among Edge's populace the night they returned from Nibelheim had cooled to a simmering angst. An uneasy feeling remained on the streets, but speeches and posturing from the opposing perspectives had replaced the riots and looting. One side argued for open-armed acceptance of outsiders, the other that such acceptance would take jobs and housing from the current residents of Edge. It was, he felt, not unlike the back and forth reactions of Cloud and Tifa to Roxey.

The sense that things could blow up again at any moment pervaded, making people tense and edgy. Neighbors who had been on good terms a week ago refused to make eye contact or openly glared at their counterparts who fell on the opposing side. When he'd first heard about the bombings in Kalm, Kadaj hadn't realized the the extent of the damage, but even if he had, he still would not have anticipated the fallout in Midgar. With some level of guilt, he had to admit the anger the populace exhibited stemmed not only from the Kalm incident but from years of events in which they had been powerless victims – his own actions not the least of those.

Vendetta's nose alternated between the pavement and the air. She'd never been trained in tracking, but she'd seemed to understand what Kadaj wanted of her when he'd thrust Roxey's stained t-shirt under her nose. It was uncanny the way she read his intentions sometimes.

The guard hound led him down several streets, through a back alley, and down another main thoroughfare. There she came to a halt and circled back. She repeated this several times before returning to his side with a whine.

"It's okay, girl. It was a long shot anyway." He rubbed the base of her tentacle until her ears were no longer flat against her head.

It hadn't rained, but the streets were teeming with WRO reinforcements and their Shinra counterparts who were brought in to help restore peace following the Kalm incident. He wasn't surprised it proved impossible to track a single child through the myriad of competing scents. Still, he was disappointed.

Despite the concerns they had raised, Cloud and Tifa continued to house Roxey. They had set up a meeting with the WRO orphanage – the three of them – but with the influx of displaced persons from Kalm, the place was chaotic. The sounds alone were overwhelming: a baby crying down the hall, a kid kicking the wall in a corner, a girl's shriek of indignation as a boy tugged on one of her braids, the boy's laughter, and a television murmuring indistinctly from another room. The place smelled faintly of a mishmash of vomit, cleaning chemicals, and sweat. Although apparently well-intentioned, the staff was overwhelmed.

The lady they met with apologized for the wait, and ushered them into a cramped office. Papers covered every flat surface and spilled over on onto the floor. The chairs were stiff-backed, adding to Kadaj's already heightened discomfort. He found marginal solace in the fact that Cloud appeared equally out of his element.

Barely making eye-contact with them, the staff representative explained the services available through the WRO for orphans and displaced children. "Ideally, all the children are matched up with foster families according to their needs," she concluded.

"What do you mean by 'ideally,'" Tifa probed.

The worker cast a weary eye out to the lobby where the hair-pulling incident had escalated into an all-out wresting match and finally caught the attention of an adult who waded in to break up the fight. She sighed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"There were few enough families willing to take on challenging children when times were less chaotic. Honestly, we're most successful at placing newborns and toddlers. Lots of folks won't consider the older kids and teens. Add in any problems, and it means they're going to be here at the orphanage for some time. We do the best we can, but we've had nine new admissions this week from Kalm alone." Seeing the angry look brewing on Tifa's face, she was quick to add, "We're really doing the best we can. And you can't blame people for being cautious about taking in a child who might have issues; some of these kids can be violent, and many have criminal histories. They have to think about their biological children and how a foster might affect them too."

It was a logic Cloud and Tifa couldn't rightfully argue with, given their own reluctance to offer Roxey extended sanctuary under their roof.

Still, there was no way Kadaj was going to leave Roxey in such a place. Thankfully, Tifa agreed and relented, no longer thinking the orphanage would be better suited to meeting her needs, and the girl was given a semi-permanent place in the Seventh Heaven household. All attempts to restrict her activities, however, had proven unsuccessful, and she continued to disappear to who-knew-where for hours on end.

She had also taken to spending time at Chaos and Kadaj's apartment – appearing at random times and leaving just as abruptly. At first she had come through the second story window, but now she used the key Kadaj had made her that was securely zipped away in the chocobo plushie's hidden pocket.

What appeal a bachelor pad had for the girl, Kadaj had no idea, but perhaps she liked the quiet in contrast to Seventh Heaven's steady hum of comings and goings. She often read – kids' novels pilfered from Seventh Heaven – while she was there, perched on the end of the couch or snuggled in the cramped space between his bed and the wall.

He didn't discourage her. At least when she was there, he knew where she was. Chaos grumped regularly, but that was the extent of it. Kadaj suspected he didn't mind their occasional houseguest nearly as much as he pretended. After all, it wasn't like she made much noise – she still hadn't spoken a word to anyone – and Kadaj had taken to replacing the food she stole, in the hope that Chaos wouldn't notice.

He still wanted to know where she went when she disappeared, but obviously having Vendetta track her wasn't going to work.

Beyond a cautious first – second? – meeting there hadn't seemed to be any issues between Vendetta and Roxey. He'd been nervous at first and reluctant to leave them alone together but eventually he'd accepted that neither of them held any ill will against the other. It bugged him that Chaos had been quicker to understand the reasons behind Vendetta's reaction to Nanaki than he had been, but he had been unnerved by her recent attack on Roxey.

"Come on, girl," he said to Vendetta as he headed for Johnny's Heaven.

He hadn't been back there since before their trip to Nibelheim, so when Kenji had suggested lunch at Johnny's Heaven, he had readily agreed.

One of the windows at the bar had been replaced with a large sheet of plywood. Apparently, Johnny's wasn't immune to the havoc that had swept the city after the Kalm incident. Inside, business appeared as usual – not as busy as Seventh Heaven, but not appearing to have lost customers due to the damaged property. Kenji sat on a stool at the bar, chatting away with the bar's redheaded owner.

Johnny looked up from the conversation. "Hey Kadaj! Something to drink? The usual?"

The question jolted him. Such a small thing – to have a "usual" – but it was a first for him, to have someone know him well enough to associate him with a "usual." He wasn't sure if he liked or resented the intimacy of it. He shook the thought away and nodded to the barkeeper.

Johnny poured the drink. "Kenji here was just telling me how you helped save the city the other night. He says you singlehandedly fought off forty hoodlums."

Kadaj raised an eyebrow at the otter. Exaggeration was to be expected in anything that came out of his mouth, but _forty_? And they hadn't done that much fighting either – in most cases the looters and vandals had fled at the sight of them. "Don't believe everything you hear."

"In any case, you have my thanks. If it weren't for people like you and the WRO, things could have gotten a lot worse. It'll take another week before the glass comes in to replace the window there, but that's a pretty small loss, all things considered."

Kadaj cleared his throat and wished he could clear away his discomfort as easily. He wasn't used to being thanked.

"Now, what can I getcha? It's on the house today."

Good thing Chaos wasn't with them, or the redhead might find his offer more expensive than a broken window.

Food ordered, Kenji dialed up Kunsel for an explanation of the WRO findings on Kalm, and Kunsel dismissed Kenji. Kadaj wasn't sure exactly how that worked, but the lights in the otter's eyes dimmed and his limbs sagged, making him lose his lifelike qualities and look like an inanimate toy – maybe it was a little like going to sleep? He knew it wasn't necessary in order for Kunsel to speak through the otter, but since the WRO representative generally lost his temper when talking with his creation, perhaps it would be more productive for Kunsel and Kadaj to talk without Kenji's involvement.

The disembodied voice disturbed Kadaj, especially since it differed so much from Kenji's, but he listened attentively despite the feeling. He had yet to meet the WRO representative – didn't even know what he looked like. Kunsel always chose to communicate through Kenji's microphone and never in person.

"We're certain now it was Weiss. The types of bombs used were identical to those used on the Gongagan mountainside. So, even though there are no Mako reserves in Kalm, we've concluded the same party must be responsible. Naturally, that had us looking for a motive for the Kalm attack. At first it wasn't clear with all the confusion and so many Kalm residents fleeing the area, but we are now estimating that somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred people are missing from Kalm. The actual total may be even higher."

"Missing?"

"Yes, apparently. There are also handfuls of people missing from Gongaga. At this time, we can only surmise they have been captured by Weiss. For what purpose, we cannot be sure."

"To return them to the Lifestream?" Kadaj had been gradually paging through the data on the computer relating to Deepground and Weiss as the unrest in Edge died back down. Weiss had previously kidnapped and killed thousands in an attempt to maximize the number of uncontaminated souls entering the Lifestream. His – or rather Hojo's – intent was to bring about the Planent's destruction by convincing it through the death of a multitude of innocents that the end had arrived – a strange mirror image to his own attempts under Jenova in which he had lured Geostigma's infected to him for the purpose of bringing back Sephiroth.

"We're not sure. It's possible. We had assumed with Hojo gone those plans would no longer be Weiss' intent, but it's possible some echo of his mind remains at work. With Omega gone, it would be a futile plan, but we can't rule out the possibility Weiss is insane and doesn't know that. We also can't rule out the possibility that he has something else in mind."

"So, basically you know nothing. Isn't that _fantastic_."

"I know there are a lot of holes in what we've put together so far. It turns out we were right about Nibelheim, though. It looks like a small force hit there this morning and struck the natural Mako fountain. We have yet to determine if there are any missing people as a result, but based on Gongaga and Kalm, I wouldn't be surprised."

Had they stayed in Nibelheim, could they have captured Weiss? Or at least prevented the attack? Kunsel's voice held no rebuke, but Kadaj couldn't help wondering. Had their premature return to Edge been a mistake? It had been his decision, not the Turks' and not Chaos'. How did he manage to mess things up at every turn?

"So, what now?" he asked as a cough across the room caught his attention. Only then did he notice all the eyes on him… as he apparently talked to a stuffed toy. Oh, wasn't this _fun_. Self-consciously, he dipped his head and let his hair fall forward.

"We were right about Gongaga and Nibelheim as targets," Kunsel continued on, unaware of the eyes around the room or the warmth sneaking up Kadaj's neck. "Unfortunately, we don't have a firm indicator as to what Weiss' next move will be. However, we have one possibility. It's a bit of a long shot, but I'm thinking we should gamble on it since we don't have much else to go on."

"And that is?" Kadaj lowered his voice to a whisper, for all the good it would do – because whispering to a stuffed animal in a bar screamed "insane" so much less than talking to it in a normal tone. _Right_.

"Modeoheim. Shinra once scouted it as a site for Mako excavation and a proposed reactor site, but the concept was abandoned – partly due to the climate. We think this could make it another target for Weiss."

* * *

What, no one cares what's going on with Chaos? (because that's what no reviews means! Rail at the author, make guesses, say its stupid, but DONT JUST BE SILENT!) (Except Stompy; thank you for the review Stompy!) Fine then, you can just wait to find out what is going on with him.

*bites tongue* Never mind, you know I love you all for reading whether you comment or not. :)

Oh, and thank you to SpiceofGinger for a new review on Chapter One. Reviews make my day!

Vendetta

06/03/16


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

 _Modeoheim_. The word revealed nothing about the place. If it _could_ convey what the place was like, Chaos was sure no one would _ever_ go there. It was no wonder Shinra had abandoned their plans for Mako exploration in the region.

Modeoheim was cold. No, "cold" didn't begin to cover it. Modeoheim was _frozen_ – bone-chillingly, bitingly frozen. Every breath burned his nose and stung his lungs.

Any place there was enough snow in summertime to bury a small army was officially off his list of preferred destinations. And the danger of snowslides in the region was real. Snowslides. AVALANCHE. Heh, he would have to remember that and see what reaction he could get if he called the group SNOWSLIDE. None from Valentine, naturally. Probably not much from Cloud either. But Barret? Oh, yes, _that_ reaction might be worth the effort.

The town was abandoned, and undisturbed snow drifted against the buildings and dusted the boughs of pine trees. Something about the snow muted all sounds, accentuating the sense of vast emptiness. The pilot kept the chopper running on the other side of the town due to the cold, but they couldn't hear it now. The sunlight reflecting off the snow made him squint. No, he _really_ didn't like Modeoheim.

A deserted stone building hunkered at the edge of the town. That would be the two-storied bathhouse if the layout of the town provided to them was correct. Boards were half-heartedly hammered in place to cover its broken out windows and skylights. Whether it was inspired genius – who wouldn't want to soak in heated bath salts after enduring the frigid temperatures here? – or pure foolishness – how much fuel must it take to heat water to near boiling temperatures in this climate? – to erect a bathhouse in Modeoheim, he couldn't decide.

Records indicated this was where the defected First-Class SOLDIER Angeal had met his end. Chaos shuddered. What a horrible place to die. Not that he had any intention of dying anywhere, but the sun-soaked beaches of Costa del Sol held much more appeal.

The kid didn't seem much happier to be here than he was, and the cat slunk along at his side in obvious displeasure.

"Looks like no one's been here in ages. Let's check out Shinra's Mako exploration base on the other side of this peak and then get out of here."

They'd seen the Shinra camp from the helicopter as the pilot brought it in for landing. It too had looked deserted, but a closer examination was needed before they called it quits. Chaos debated whether he could convince the whelp to scout the site by himself so he could go back and sit in the relative warmth of the chopper. The idea appealed, but he couldn't find any explanation the kid was likely to accept. He sighed.

" **Lead the way, whelp**."

They entered a tunnel mined through the mountainside, using Shinra-issue flashlights to illuminate the way. Unfortunately, it was already occupied with oversized bird-like monsters. Didn't birds usually migrate to warmer climates? Why would any creature, let alone _birds_ , choose to reside in this forsaken ice wilderness? He let the question go unanswered as they finished off the last of the attacking monsters and continued through the passage. The cat remained behind to gulp down a meal before the birds dissolved into the Lifestream.

As they exited the tunnel into blinding snow-reflected light, Chaos noted the absence of trees on this side – they must have gained enough altitude as they came through the tunnel to place them above the tree line. Instead, rock faces rose in shear, snow-dusted walls around them.

The buildings that soon came into view bore the mark of Shinra. Concrete bunkers squatted in the snow, breaking up the desolate terrain with their soulless features. There was something cold – ha, no pun intended – about Shinra's developments. Cold, militaristic, and utilitarian.

Scattered metal barrels reminded him unpleasantly of the one at the Gongagan reactor Weiss' sword had pierced before slicing into his shoulder. He resisted the urge to rub at the spot, which still ached despite the numbing cold.

The whelp bent to examine footprints in the snow beside an abandoned orange and white cone. The prints were half drifted over, but that would happen fast here – these were recent. When he rose from his inspection, Souba was in his hand.

The snow-covered ground muffled their footsteps as they stalked deeper into the compound. This had once – according to the otter's computer records – been a base of operations for the renegade First-Class SOLDIER Genesis Rhapsodos. If Weiss _was_ setting up a base here, it would be evidence in favor of the adage, "history repeats itself." They needed to be ready for anything.

They followed the prints to a vehicle-sized ramp leading down into one of the bunkers. The building was bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, built deep into the ground. Metal-grated stairs allowed for a glimpse down many levels. The dull thud of their steps changed to clanging as they started down the grated stairway. Too bad the sound-muffling properties of the snowy terrain didn't extend inside the building.

Avoiding the noisy grating when possible, they made their way deeper into the facility until at last they heard voices. Stealth brought them as close as possible to the two men. Chaos felt disappointment that neither of the men in workmen's garb was Weiss. He wouldn't have minded settling up the debt for the cut on his shoulder.

Using the element of surprise to their advantage, Chaos and Kadaj rushed at them. One dropped his half-eaten sandwich in surprise. The other reached behind him and grabbed a materia-embedded spear. Chaos wasted no time in knocking him out while Souba's presence at the other man's neck arrested any further movement he might have made.

"Hold _very_ still, or I let Souba taste you." Cyan eyes shone behind the sweep of the whelp's silver hair. "Are there others here?"

"N-no."

Not that they could exactly trust his word, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

"But Weiss sent you? What are you doing here?"

"I don't have to tell you anything! The Pure won't be stopped!"

" _Reeaally_?" the whelp purred as he pressed the dual blades tighter against the man's throat. "Do you know who I am? Do you think I won't take your measly life without a second thought?"

It gave Chaos shivers hearing that voice. Moments like this, the kid almost made him proud.

"I-I've heard of you," their captive replied with false bravado. "To think Weiss thought you could ascend to be one of the Pure. You're nothing! Weiss will make mincemeat of you when he finds you. _Long live Weiss_."

What was all this business about the _Pure_ anyway?

Further attempts to make the man talk were fruitless. He had clammed up and all they could get out of him were mindless bits of rhetoric. It was almost like the man was brainwashed or hypnotized. The whelp bound his hands with cloth, and they made a search of the rest of the building and then the surrounding area, turning up no more people but revealing small-scale Mako-extraction equipment.

So, Weiss was sending minions to do his work now, was he? The cynical side of Chaos – was there any other side? – couldn't fault the logic in that. If Chaos could have sent someone in his place to this accursedly cold location, he would have done so in less than a heartbeat.

Speaking of logic, maybe there was something to said for _not_ rendering one's captive unconscious, he thought, as he dragged his own captive through the snow behind him while the whelp merely goaded his prisoner to stumble ahead of them. Hnn… Regardless, the thought of getting back to Edge – and its warmth – and remanding these two over into WRO custody was a pleasant one.

And here he'd never thought he'd miss Edge…

A shriek was their only warning as a man leapt down from a building on top of them. Chaos dropped his still unconscious prisoner and started towards where Kadaj grappled on the ground with his assailant. Kadaj's prisoner stumbled away but managed to get his still-bound hands on a materia and wielded it in Chaos' direction. _Oh, for the love of chocobos!_ Chaos felt the spell take hold on him, and his forward momentum ground to a halt. Oh, the irony of being frozen in his tracks in _this_ of all places.

Powerless to move, Chaos watched the events play out before him. The whelp struggled under his attacker's greater weight, his sword uselessly pinned beneath him. A black flash emerged from the entrance to the mine, but the cat was too far away to be of immediate assistance.

Weiss' man lifted his dagger and brought it down towards the whelp's undefended neck. With Chaos immobilized and Vendetta still a hundred yards away, there was no way out for him.

Rage choked him. It was possible he had let himself grow just a little fond of the kid, and now he'd miss the cheeky sarcasm and simmering angst. He strained against the materia's hold over him. Nothing. He couldn't twitch a single muscle.

A shimmering of air currents suggested the use of another materia, but he could see all three men from where he stood: the one unconscious, another still gripping the materia used against him, and the one with the knife straddling Kadaj. None of them were activating new materia.

The shimmering resolved itself into the slate surface of Barrier and broke the blade as it descended. Barrier continued to expand, forcing Kadaj's attacker back, and the kid scrambled to his feet and freed Souba.

Chaos struggled to comprehend what had happened as he felt the spell holding him immobile begin to weaken and melt. _Ah… the cat_. Guard hounds, with their heavy Mako concentrations, could be trained to cast Barrier. Who knew that they could also do so on instinct?

Chaos drew a breath as the last of the hold on him dissolved—in preparation for attacking the mortal with the audacity to direct a materia at him, not because he'd actually been worried. Nope.

After they had the three men subdued and bound, they headed back through the mountain to the town of Modeoheim. They didn't talk about the near-miss on the remainder of the trip back to the chopper, but Chaos didn't complain when the kid wordlessly helped himself to four pieces of jerky from _Chaos'_ pack and fed them to the cat as the helicopter took to the air once again. Instead, he watched as the complex became a smaller and smaller dot through the chopper window, finally disappearing altogether into the vast whiteness.

Yes, he would be happy indeed to land in Edge once more.

* * *

Thank you to the very awesome Megatron for voting in favor of Chaos surviving this fic. As to whether the request shall be granted, stay tuned and we shall see...

Also, deepest gratitude to Viking for a marathon of reviews for the last few chapters!

 _ **Vendetta**_

 _ **06/17/16**_


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Kadaj stroked the Dual Hound one last time as he laid it on the counter beside the Velvet Nightmare. His brothers' weapons. He had been putting off getting repairs made to Yazoo's gun – loath to part even briefly with this one remaining connection. The time had come though, and he had decided to have the Dual Hound cleaned and oiled at the same time.

"Two weeks?" he confirmed with the gunsmith.

"Yeah, I'll have a courier drop them by once they're fixed up proper," the bearded man replied.

It was unaccountably hard, turning from the counter and walking away. He blinked back moisture from his eyes.

Vendetta's nose bumped his hand and demanded his attention to scratch her ears as they walked, and he welcomed the distraction.

Kadaj wasn't ready to return to the apartment yet, so they walked aimlessly for a while.

His thoughts turned to the WRO prison where he and Chaos had delivered Weiss' minions after their return from Modeoheim. Technically, the place was called a detention center, but "prison" was a much more honest term for what they had seen there: rows upon rows of reinforced concrete and glass, designed for the most uncontrollable inmates. Some of the cells housed captured Deepground members, and their eyes had followed him with a dark intensity. One of them had even lunged at the glass, growling like a Nibel wolf. With so little humanity left to them, he understood why the WRO had opted to lock them up.

He couldn't help but wonder, however, if one of those cells had been designed with him in mind. Perhaps he should be grateful things hadn't turned out that way and the WRO had maneuvered to make him an ally instead of its prisoner. Nevertheless, the narrowness between what was and what could have been troubled him.

He had been all too ready to leave the claustrophobic space and shed the itch between his shoulder blades. Later that night, it had taken a long while before he was able to shut his eyes and fall asleep. It would take far longer to purge the memory of feral, caged eyes from his memory.

At his side, Vendetta halted. Kadaj looked up from his thoughts and recognized the nearest storefront. This was the general area in which they had first encountered Roxey.

Vendetta's nose came up, and her nostrils twitched. Puzzled, Kadaj watched to see what she would do. She turned sharply to the left and began zigzagging through the streets before coming to a halt in front of a larger building stuffed in behind some others. The tall wrought iron gates seemed out of place in Edge. The unadorned sign proclaimed the place the 'Edge Aviary and Educational Center.' _Strange_ – he wouldn't have thought Edge able to support such a place, and it didn't look like it got much traffic.

"So, that's the scent that caught your attention. Always thinking with your stomach, eh girl?"

He called the guard hound, but was surprised when she refused to come and kept her nose pressed to the gates. Disobedience was not her nature, not even when she scared up rabbits or other small prey while they were traveling in the wilderness.

Kadaj grasped the wrought iron bars and considered the place for a moment. _Why not?_ He removed the cloth from his neck and fashioned it into a rough collar of sorts. He had no rope, so held the makeshift collar in his gloved hand. Not that he could hold her back if she set her mind on something – her size and strength had long since exceeded his own – but still, it gave him a physical connection to her and would hopefully be enough to stop her if need be. The memory of her attack on Roxey hadn't entirely left his mind.

"This had better not be a wild goose chase."

The gate edged open smoothly when he released the latch. Small saplings grew in the courtyard, and several little brown birds flew up into their low branches as he and Vendetta made their way to the building's entrance.

Inside, he was surprised at the level of noise: chirping, cooing, and hooting blended together in an unexpected cacophony. He looked around in awe at the cages – habitats, really – that surrounded him. Behind each glass window, a different group of birds roosted or pecked at the ground. Blues, yellows, reds, oranges – the variety stunned him. Edge had a few birds, mostly gray little sparrows that picked at the refuse left behind by mankind, but the energy exploitation that had poisoned the countryside around old Midgar had not been kind to small animals and had decimated the bird population. Some locations, like the forest near Gongaga and the plains around the Chocobo Farm, still boasted a few colorful birds, but never had Kadaj seen so many different kinds gathered in one area.

Vendetta licked her lips but continued to pull against her makeshift collar, dragging him towards the rear of the building. Soon, he could hear voices. He peered into a large, open atrium with a clear domed ceiling. Sunlight shone down on a man and a girl standing towards the center, and some type of falcon perched on the leather guard over the man's arm.

The man's stooped back was to the door, and his left leg dragged as he gathered some meat scraps and gave them to his companion. She fed them to the bird piece by piece. Kadaj stiffened as his attention shifted to the girl. Her hair was brushed and braided and she was wearing clean clothes – a change that had occurred as soon as she had started living at Seventh Heaven – but the girl was definitely Roxey.

What was she doing here with this stranger? Scenarios envisioned on the long flight back from Nibelheim flashed to the front of his mind. Edge had its fair share of deviants: predators who preyed on the weak, dealers who used kids to sell their products to the Materia addicts – the possibilities were endless… and not pleasant.

"Tell me again the difference between a peregrine and a gryfalcon," the man said.

For all of Kadaj's immediate suspicions, the man talked in the way he imagined a father might. Could he be a relative? She'd shaken her head when he asked if she had family, but—

"The gryfalcon is larger, has a longer tail and shorter wings, and lacks the bars on the legs that the peregrine has."

Kadaj was stunned. He had hoped to someday hear Roxey speak. He had imagined her speaking her first faltering words to him after she had settled in a little longer. Yet, here she was speaking in fully formed sentences with no hesitation. Had it all been a ruse? What purpose could the girl have had in duping him?

"Right," the man said, unfazed by her verbal response. He handed her a leather wrist guard. "Now let's see if ol' Perry here will behave for you."

Kadaj stepped into the room. His initial suspicions about the man had been replaced by a litany of other questions, and he _would_ have answers.

The man immediately stepped in front of Roxey. His protective stance further relieved Kadaj's concerns about the nature of his intentions toward her, but didn't resolve any of the other questions milling about in his mind like a corral full of malboros. Perhaps they were a father/daughter crime team? Although, that didn't seem to fit with the aviary, which was much too elaborate and unexpected to be a front for common crime – and the girl had been pick-pocketing, not anything complicated. Perhaps the old man was just what he appeared: a kindly old man mentoring a youth. Why then Roxey's pretense at being mute?

Kadaj's gaze rose to the man's eyes, and his hand moved automatically to Souba's hilt. Brightly lit eyes – Mako eyes – set in a face whose youth belied the assumptions Kadaj had made based on the stoop and limp. There was only one place people got eyes like that: SOLDIER.

"Roxey, go wait out in the corridor," he commanded without taking his eyes from the shocking blue ones of the SOLDIER.

The girl looked from him to the SOLDIER and back again.

"It's all right. Why don't you go feed the finches? They'll be getting hungry by now." The SOLDIER spoke reassuringly to Roxey, but Kadaj noted the stiffness in his voice.

With one last look at each of them, Roxey scampered out of the atrium.

"What are you doing with her, SOLDIER?" Kadaj demanded in a voice just above a whisper.

"Easy. Easy, there." The SOLDIER spoke as he returned the falcon to a chest-high perch. It wasn't clear if he was speaking to the bird or Kadaj – or perhaps both.

Kadaj's mind whirred. It was extremely rare to come across a SOLDIER these days. Cloud had the Mako eyes although he had never actually been in SOLDIER, but Kadaj had only ever come across one other individual with Mako eyes – and that person was mad. Not only had SOLDIERs been exposed to Mako, they had also been injected with Jenova cells. He knew all too well the consequences of sharing mind space with _her_.

"Where did you come from? What do you want with the girl?" Kadaj demanded again, louder.

The SOLDIER sighed as he stroked the falcon's feathers one last time before turning to face Kadaj. He didn't appear to be armed, and his lack of offensive reaction caused Kadaj to relax slightly. He _could_ have a hidden weapon or be planning something cunning, but overall, SOLDIERs were known for their direct approach to things – possibly the reason so many of them had been killed while the Turks had managed to survive.

With the threat of an imminent clash receding, questions filled Kadaj's mind. How did a SOLDIER come to have a limp? Wouldn't the Mako levels prevent that? What was he doing here with all these birds? Was he a danger to Roxey?

"I can see you have questions," the Mako-eyed man said at last. "You are too young to be the girl's father. Her brother, perhaps?" He stood as straight as his stoop would allow and met Kadaj's gaze without flinching.

"Something like that." Kadaj kept his answer vague. Knowledge was power, and he had altogether too little of it already. But apparently this man wasn't a blood relative or he wouldn't have asked that particular question – which still didn't answer _who_ he was.

"Who are you? Or should I say _what_ are you, Mako eyes?" Kadaj edged in a circular motion around the SOLDIER.

"Luxiere, and you're not wrong – I _was_ in SOLDIER."

Kadaj hadn't expected to have his suspicions confirmed with so little resistance, but it was hardly as if the man could deny it with those eyes blazing blue like the waters surrounding Costa del Sol.

"Yes, that den of monsters. Not many of them left." Kadaj's taunt was deliberate. Better to draw this man out in the open and know what he was dealing with than let him have the upper hand.

"True. And the best of us were the first to go." The SOLDIER rubbed thoughtfully at a scar on his arm, and the lines in his face softened as he spoke. "It should have been the other way around. The ones with honor should have lived, and our ambition should have been punished."

There was a story there, but not one Kadaj had the time or interest to delve into. "Tell me about the girl. What do you want with her?"

"She's been coming here almost every day for the last two years. I didn't think she had any family. I'm sorry if I've offended by encouraging her. She has a real knack with the birds and makes herself useful. It's no small thing caring for all of them alone. I figured at least she was off the streets and safe."

Here Kadaj had imagined _he_ was Roxey's knight in shining armor. And now to find out she already had one. Had been coming here for two years and meeting with this unassuming man. _Talking_ with him.

Internally, Kadaj debated his next question, afraid asking might reveal more than he wanted, but curiosity won out. "And she talks to you?"

The SOLDIER's look sharpened for a moment. "Not at first. And only ever about the birds. I still don't know her name. 'Roxey,' you said?"

Kadaj made a noncommittal sound and returned Souba to its place as curiosity began to replace suspicion. "What is this place?"

"Pretty much what it looks like: a sanctuary for birds. I found the building on the outskirts of Midgar after… well, after I left SOLDIER. That was just before Meteorfall; Edge grew up around us after that."

"But why?"

"Birds are fragile, prone to the effects of their environment." Luxiere's voice took on the same tone he had been using with Roxey – one of a teacher who expects his students' full concentration. "When the plants whose seeds they eat or the vermin they depend on are poisoned, they die off rapidly. The goal is to protect these species and prevent their extinction until the Planet is healthy enough to support them again."

"How is that even possible? It must have cost a fortune to gather these birds, not to mention the cost of unpolluted feed." Things had gotten easier since he'd accepted employment with Rufus, but he was still cognizant of the cost of living and what keeping Vendetta in food required – and she wasn't terribly particular about her food.

"An anonymous donor who feels they owe a debt to the Planet helps support us and makes sure we have everything we need."

"Hnn…" he said without thinking. He grimaced when he realized who that sounded like.

"You haven't told me how you know Roxey," Luxiere pressed back at him, his tone cautious but unrelenting.

He didn't intend to either. It was all he could do to not give in the compulsion to grab Roxey and leave this place. She was _his_.

No, that wasn't right. She wasn't some kind of possession. She wasn't his pet. She was a person, and if other people – Cloud, Tifa, Luxiere, or whoever – were good for her, he couldn't deny her that.

The memory of Modeoheim – Weiss' man knocking him flat and wielding a blade at his throat – swept up out of nowhere and sent a chill through him. If something happened to him, he wanted to know Roxey had people to watch out for her. This man cared enough to want her off the streets and to share his passion for birds with her.

He reached in his pocket, and Luxiere stiffened. Kadaj smirked as he withdrew his cellphone rather than some hidden weapon. If he was going to attack, didn't the SOLDIER think he would use the big, obvious sword rather than something from his pocket? He wrote out his number and, as an afterthought, the number for Seventh Heaven and handed it to Luxiere.

Luxiere met his eyes as he took the slip of paper and gave a small nod that put him in mind of Cloud, but maybe it was just the eyes. He would have liked to have issued some sort of order to re-establish his sense of control, like maybe a curfew by which Roxey needed to be home. The problem was he had no idea of what was reasonable and would look more foolish if he let it show than if he said nothing at all.

He settled for a vague threat. "If anything happens to her, I know where to find you." He spun on his heel and left the domed room.

In the corridor, he found Roxey sitting against a wall stroking the purple plushie's beak to make it _wark_. He knelt on one knee next to her but didn't know what he wanted to say.

She glanced up at him and smiled. A tendril of warmth blossomed around his heart.

"You're okay here? You'd let me know if there was a problem?" he asked.

She nodded, and he felt the blossom chill and fade in his chest as he realized he'd been hoping she'd speak to him in words like she did Luxiere.

He gave a small nod and stood. He worked to keep the sudden chill from invading his voice. "Okay, then."

Vendetta gave one last reluctant glance at the birds before following him out the door.

* * *

 _ **I will not be surprised if one day I hear a megaphone booming, "Step away from the minor canon characters!" But they are too much fun.**_

 _ **Luxiere is a minor character from Crisis Core. If you are not as familiar with Crisis Core, Luxiere is one of Zack's fellow SOLDIERs. Throughout the game Luxiere texts Zack, often closing with the words "I'll follow you to the end." However, when Zack is on the run, Luxiere suggests that Zack should tell him where he is which would help him "score a promotion" and that with his "newfound authority" he "might" be able to spare Zack's life.**_

 _ **Lots of fanfics take revenge on Luxiere's apparent self-interest by killing him off. I wondered, though, how Zack's death and the events following might have affected this young man if he survived. So here's a little snapshot I hope captures that impact just a little. We don't get his full story here, but if anyone is interested it could become a story of its own... maybe.**_

 _ **Also, many thanks to Viking, Stompy, and Megatron for taking the time to review the trip to Modeoheim. You are all marvelous!**_

 _ **Vendetta**_

 _ **07/01/16**_


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's note: The second half of the following chapter is inspired by and intended as a tribute to a scene in ScribeofRhapsody's Shattered: Act I. If you are not also following that story, well, you SHOULD!**

 **Normally our AUs don't intersect well enough to have overlap, but they did here so I gratefully acknowledge the Scribe for allowing me to springboard off her idea.**

 **Also, the second portion is intended to be read with Billy Boyd's The Last Goodbye for music (you can easily find it on youtube). In an effort to abide by the requirements of this site, the name of the song and the lyrics used are altered slightly.**

 **All rights to Final Fantasy, The Last Goodbye, and Shattered remain with their lawful owners (and, sadly, not me).**

* * *

Chapter 32

Chaos occupied a booth at Seventh Heaven, having chosen to bring the computer down to the bar so he could order a meal while he browsed through the countless files. Kadaj sat across from him poring over a stack of uncatalogued paper files.

He rubbed his forehead. "Project G" was his current research topic, but it was proving to be more of a headache than he had anticipated. He still wasn't sure if the "G" stood for "Genesis" or "Gillian." Then again, given the scientists who were willy-nilly injecting alien DNA into fetuses and their mothers, he wouldn't lay bets even they knew for sure. He shuddered. Having been the unwilling subject of some of those selfsame "scientists," he found the files more personally relevant than they might have been.

He had even encountered some notes from Lucrecia mixed in amongst more recent entries. Considering the archives were compiled and uploaded by WRO interns rather than actual scientists, he supposed he should not be surprised by the lack of organization. Then again, Lucrecia's notes were so disjointed as to be difficult to follow, frequently trailing off mid-thought. So, perhaps the WRO hadn't done so terribly with what they had.

Lucrecia… Chaos had never met her in person – visiting the cave where her body was encapsulated in crystalized Mako didn't count. He had witnessed Valentine's memories of her and watched the holograms Shelke had retrieved. Valentine's opinion notwithstanding, Chaos wasn't impressed. _Stupid scientists sticking their noses where they don't belong_.

Nor had he forgotten that Lucrecia was equally complicit in saddling him with Valentine for all those years. Moreover, the woman lacked a backbone – always apologizing but never standing up to Hojo or making decisions for herself. Honestly, what did his former host see in the woman? No matter, she was beyond reach at this point anyway.

"Nyhuh!" The Wutainese brat scrambled out on all fours from under a table across the room. "Where could it be?"

"Yuffie, what are you looking for?" Tifa asked, her hands full of dirty mugs.

"Conformer! Someone's stolen it!"

"Your shuriken? I'm sure you just set it down somewhere and it'll turn up again."

"Nope, I've looked everywhere. Someone stole it!" The ninja glared meaningfully at their table.

 _Right_. What use did she think they would have for such a weapon? If Chaos was going to steal a weapon, it would be Cloud's sword or maybe Vincent's gun, but not a girly weapon like a shuriken.

Before he could say anything, the ninja dashed out of the room.

The phone rang in the back room, and Tifa cast a harried look in that direction and then back at the mugs in her hands.

"Uh, Kadaj, could you get that, please?"

The whelp looked up from his reading in surprise. After a moment's hesitation, he stepped into the back room.

"Seventh Heaven?" he spoke uncertainly into the receiver.

A long silence followed. Then the sound of the receiver being settled gently back into place.

"Kadaj, who was it?" Tifa called.

"Er, wrong number?"

"You sure? You were on quite a while for a wrong number."

The whelp fidgeted, visibly uncomfortable. "He said something about Yuffie and not waiting… but he said some other things too. Lots of things about mothers… and other… er, not appropriate… stuff. It must have been a wrong number."

"Oh. _Oh_ , that must have been Cid. He's flying Yuffie back to Wutai today. And that other stuff he said, well, that's just Cid's way of talking."

The whelp didn't look convinced. A tendril of glee wound its way around Chaos' midsection as he contemplated the whelp having to deal with the foul-mouthed AVALANCHE pilot. Destroy the Planet? Sure! But throw a little colorful language at the kid and his eyes got all round.

He could just imagine how the whelp would react to Barret. Whoever had thought giving that hot-tempered fool a gun-arm was a good idea… well, now the man was a walking insurance claim waiting to happen.

Ha, it only seemed like justice for the kid to have to bear with the more obnoxious members of the group – as he had.

* * *

Kadaj sat back in the booth and let out a breath. Journals and loose papers weighed down the table in front of him. He'd been reading through the latest box of not-yet-uploaded manuscripts provided by the joint archives of the WRO and Shinra. These were more personal than the scientific findings he had browsed through previously.

The personal diaries had been retrieved from Banora and the caverns beneath Midgar and detailed Genesis' experiences from the time he joined Shinra until after the Deepground Crisis. The content was mentally weightier than he'd expected.

The first entries were filled with hope and pride. Genesis had thought he'd found his purpose in joining SOLDIER. ' _The world needs a new_ _hero,'_ he'd written. Interspersed in the text of the memoirs were bits of quoted poetry. One section Kadaj recognized. It took him a moment, but he finally recalled where he had read the words before – they'd been scratched on the wall of a nameless inn.

At some point after the Wutai war, the tone of the writing changed. ' _A perfect monster,'_ the First Class wrote in describing both himself and the friend of his youth, Sephiroth. The extent of his illness – _degradation_ the official files called it – was apparent in the increasing shakiness with which he penned the words.

Kadaj had always known he was an aberration, sprung from Sephiroth's remains. Genesis, on the other hand, had thought himself normal, the son of a wealthy landowner… until the bombshell that he was adopted – that he was the cast-off of a failed Shinra experiment.

To make matters worse, Genesis had suffered the loss of his companions. First Angeal, his closest friend. Then Sephiroth, his friend and rival. Then Zack, for whom he'd developed a kind of fondness for through their common friends and their mutual evasion of Shinra. Prisoner, wanderer, and hero – Genesis named them – though which was which remained unintelligible to Kadaj as he pored over the journals.

Somehow, Genesis' condition had been cured, and the wobbly scrawl reverted to elegant penmanship. The poetic ramblings remained just as elusive, however. ' _Infinite in mystery_ …'

After that, as best as Kadaj could make out, Genesis had lain low for some time – skulking in the caverns beneath Midgar in a manner reminiscent of Chaos's rather acidic descriptions of Vincent Valentine's years in the basement of Shinra Mansion.

After Deepground, Genesis had rescued Weiss and attempted to rehabilitate him. Apparently, Genesis had viewed redeeming Weiss as his act of contrition to the Planet.

' _I emerge from my slumber, breaking free from doubt and regret. We, brother, shall be prisoners and wanderers no more, but heroes once more, even if the morrow is barren of promise.'_

His self-appointed role as would-be mentor and protector of the Tsviet was obvious. _'A solitary black wing shelters white promise, the hope of redemption.'_

It had all gone horribly awry, though, and ultimately Genesis had to abandon that dream when Weiss continued to descend further and further into madness despite the absence of Hojo.

' _Would you also betray me, brother? Must I forsake you also? The monster in you cannot be purged. No hope; pride is lost.'_

What implications did Genesis' attempts have for Kadaj's own aspirations? Could he hope to achieve success where the First Class had failed? He studied the photograph in his hands: Genesis in the prime of his Shinra career, posed for a full-body photo, the red in his coat accentuating the highlights in his auburn hair. His aristocratic features hinted at a dramatic personality. Perhaps Kadaj would have found a person who understood him if he could have talked with Genesis in person.

He would have liked to have picked Genesis' mind about Weiss and gleaned any information that might be used in reaching the ex-Tsviet. It was impossible though. No one – not Shinra and not the WRO – knew where Genesis had disappeared to. His abandoned journals suggested his departure was unplanned.

Perhaps Genesis was dead. Given the documentation of his spiraling relationship with Weiss, it was even possible the Tsviet had killed him. It was a sobering thought. If Weiss had killed Genesis, who had saved him and nursed him back to health after Deepground, it wasn't a leap to conclude Weiss would hold no compunction against killing Kadaj too.

Kadaj startled when Kenji pounced onto the backrest behind him and read the first line of the top sheet of the stack of papers. "'The Final Farewell.' Oh, a song!" The otter hopped over Kadaj's shoulder onto the table and picked it up. "Tifa, have a squiz at this."

Tifa wiped her hands on her apron and made her way over.

"Can yeh play it?" The otter removed his hat and clutched it to his chest with one paw as he held Genesis' composition out to Tifa in the other.

"Hmm… I think so." She took the sheet over and bared the keys of the piano, running through a quick scale to warm her fingers.

Kadaj laid the photograph aside as he pushed aside a hint of irritation. After reading through Genesis' writings, he felt the stirrings of possessiveness – protectiveness, even – for the man's highly personal writings.

Still… he was curious to hear the song the man had penned. Apparently, others felt the same curiosity as they collectively gave their attention. Cloud and Yuffie drew close to the piano while Vincent and Chaos merely looked up from across the room.

Tifa played through the introduction and then joined her voice to the piano chords.

The second line caught him by surprise. _Fallen brothers_. Loz and Yazoo. Fallen, gone. _Final farewell_. _No_! He didn't want to accept that. He wouldn't!

The song went on, regardless of his wishes, talking about the close of day and the call of the road. No! He didn't want to move on. He didn't want to let go. No path held any allure for him if his brothers couldn't join him.

His traitorous eyes slid to the back room where Roxey and the kids lapped at ice cream cones, catching briefly on Kenji and Chaos along the way. Would he turn his back on his brothers to follow new paths? The next words drug his focus back to the piano. _No regretting, nor forgetting._ No, he would never forget them. And if sorrow was the price of knowing them, then he would bear no regrets for that either.

Moisture threatened to leak from his eyes. Ashamed, he kept his eyes locked on the piano as Tifa's fingers ran lightly over the keys.

He hoped for the song to stop, that it would cease to shred his heart and that he could recover.

He hoped the song would go on, keeping his companions' attention and letting him hide the tears that threatened to overflow.

Desperately, he swiped at the corners of his eyes, wishing the salty evidence away.

Finally, Tifa came to the last line. Her voice choked on the words, and Kadaj looked up to see tears streaming down her cheeks. _What_? He blinked away his tears and his surprise. _Of course_. Tifa and company had lost people too. Intellectually, he'd known this, but seeing the tears was different – more real.

Tifa continued playing, starting at the beginning again, and Cloud's soft voice took over where hers had choked up. Kadaj chanced a glance at him out of the corner of his eye and was astounded to see wetness shimmering in his eyes as well.

He'd never thought to see this side of Cloud. Somehow the swordsman's tears struck him not as weak but as brave. Brave to go on without lost comrades and fallen brothers. Brave to face the unknown ahead while saying farewell to those left behind.

His thoughts turned to Genesis, and hearing the song sung through for a second time, pieces clicked into place. The words from the song melded with the stories from Genesis' journals. Fallen brothers: Angeal, Sephiroth, Zack, and, in a way, Weiss. The references to Modeoheim's frozen terrain where Angeal fell, the silver stream of Sephiroth's hair as it dissolved into the Lifestream, the star-basked plain where Zack met his end, and the depths of Deepground where never light had shone and Weiss was lost to him. _Many places, many sorrows. No regretting, nor forgetting._

 _Goodbye, Loz._

 _Farewell, Yazoo_.

This time he didn't brush away the tears as they fell.

* * *

 **Yes, kids, it's true: Kadaj has finally let go of the idea of finding Loz and Yazoo, and so, dear reader, should you. We can only hope that he finds something else or someone else to fill that hole in his heart that so yearns for closeness and family. Poor messed up remnant.**

Also, a warm welcome to new follower Dark. Follows, favorites, and reviews make my day.

 **Vendetta**

 **07/15/16**


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Chaos shut out the background din of cutlery and murmured voices typical to Seventh Heaven and stared at the alternating squares of light and dark woodgrain that made up the chessboard. He willed the miniature black warriors resting on its varnished surface to show some spirit and take back the field from the opposing side.

But the power of intimidation worked on inanimate objects… about as well as it worked on the tadpole sitting across the booth from him. How had he gotten conned into another game of chess with Marlene? He answered his own mental question: only because Twenty Questions turned out to be a hundred times worse. At least this time he had managed to snag her queen in the fifth move.

Chaos moved his rook. It was a good piece, straightforward and powerful – not the queen, but dependable nonetheless.

The tadpole moved her pawn one space forward. His brows furrowed. What was the purpose of that? Pawns were powerless pieces, fit only to be cannon fodder. What could she hope to achieve by moving it all the way across the board?

"White pawn promoted to queen!" the tadpole chirped. She reached into the box and retrieved her captured piece, returning it to the board.

" **Now wait a minute** , **I killed that one fair and square**." Not that Chaos really cared about fairness, but dead was dead. Unless the Lifestream booted someone back to square one, but that was… different.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I guess. When you get a pawn all the way across to the other side, you get to trade it in for another piece. Sorry." Something about the tadpole's tone suggested she wasn't all that sorry.

" **Hnn** …"

She cornered his beleaguered king in another three moves.

"Checkmate!"

Games were stupid anyway. Childish pastimes intended for the young and feeble of mind.

Across the room, Valentine stepped in through the main entrance, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the doorway. _Finally._ Chaos didn't have any way to get in touch with him – no one had thought to get _him_ a phone – so he'd had to wait around for the gunman to show up at Seventh Heaven, which with the tadpole around, was an exercise in humility.

His eyes locked with Valentine's red ones. " **A word**." He nodded at the stairway to the rooftop.

Valentine ducked his head in acknowledgement, his chin sinking a little lower behind his cowl for a moment.

On the rooftop, Chaos leaned out over the railing to glare at the city below as he waited for Valentine to come up. Asking the gunman for help was about the last thing he had wanted to have to do. He wasn't even sure his ex-host would _want_ to help him, but the list of people lining up to offer him favors was a short one, and the wound on his shoulder wasn't going to wait much longer.

When he had first realized the wound would not heal, he had been fascinated and could not refrain from rechecking it several times a day, watching with sick fascination as the area of infection – was that even the right term for the colorless gray? – spread further across his shoulder and down his chest and back. The leaching away of all color – he'd never seen anything like it. Frankly, it had him a tad worried. Not that Valentine needed to know that.

Finally, he had stopped looking at it altogether. If he didn't look at it, he didn't have to think about it… but he couldn't _stop_ thinking about it. What if it continued to grow? Could it kill him? He'd taken his invincibility for granted for well over a thousand years. The concept that he _could_ die from this petty wound… it was incomprehensible. No, he could wait no longer in the futile hope it would go away on its own.

Speaking of waiting, where was Valentine, anyway? Patience wasn't particularly his best suit even when his shoulder _wasn't_ aching.

The door grated as it fell softly shut behind him, the only evidence of his ex-host's arrival.

" **It's about time**."

"Hnn…"

He couldn't see Valentine, but he could imagine him standing there with his arms folded, silently waiting. What? Did _he_ have to do all the work?

"You wanted to see me?"

There was probably a long list of things Chaos _wasn't_ good at: being nice, wrapping presents, singing lullabies, rocking infants to sleep, beauty contests, ballet dancing… Asking for help was definitely on that list, probably near the top.

Perhaps it would be easier just to show him? In which case, the dark rooftop suddenly sounded like a poor choice of location. But then, at the time, he had been thinking of privacy not lighting.

" **Do you have a Cure Materia**?"

Valentine swept his cape back to reveal the green orb situated in a slot on the grip of his weapon but made no move to activate the Materia.

Chaos stared at it as it caught the small amount of light cast by the sliver of a moon. " **Let's cut to the chase. You will use it on me**." The words hung in the air, as flat and unpalatable as they had been in his mind.

"Hnn…"

" **Valentine**..." Chaos growled.

"Why don't I loan it to you and you can use it yourself?" The question in that remark was obvious. Neither he nor Kadaj had wanted anyone to know they _couldn't_ use Materia. Why did the man have to be so intelligent? Why couldn't he have been stuck with a dim-witted host?

" **I wouldn't want to** ** _trouble_** **you for a loan. Just cast it and be done**."

"Chaos, why isn't your body healing itself?"

As if playing Twenty Questions with the tadpole wasn't bad enough. " **If I wanted to answer a bunch of questions, I would have asked Tifa instead**." That was a lie. He wasn't willing to reveal this to anyone else. It was a mark of his desperation that he was willing to ask his ex-host. If Valentine refused…

"Hnn." Valentine stepped into Chaos' personal space and held the orb out. The Materia glowed as he activated it.

Chaos peeled the clothing back from his shoulder to watch the wound heal.

The green glow peaked and faded. The pain in his shoulder remained.

He glowered at Valentine. " **What did you do? It didn't work**."

Valentine's brows drew together, and he cast again, holding the Materia close so he could examine the wound in its illumination.

No change.

"Hnn… Chaos, where did you get that wound?"

He didn't want to answer. A part of him clenched around his privacy – _his_ injury was no one else's business. Still, if there was something Valentine could do about it…

" **Weiss' sword in Gongaga**." He recalled the strike that had caught him off-guard, remembered the dripping substance on the blade. " **He struck a barrel of some chemical with it first**."

"Hnn…"

" **Do you know what it is? Why won't it heal**?" His spirits lifted from where they had fallen when the Cure Materia failed. If Valentine knew what this was, then he could find the remedy for it. He was ready to be done with the constant pain.

"Maybe. It's not the Geostigma." Valentine returned the Materia to its place and folded his arms. "I wonder…"

That was less than helpful. Knowing what it _wasn't_ didn't help him. And even _he_ could tell it wasn't Geostigma. Although, he could understand why Geostigma came to mind: it had also been incurable and unresponsive to Materia. Perhaps the two were related? But that didn't make any sense…

"You should see Reeve."

" **Reeve**?" What did the former director of the WRO have to do with anything?

"If it's what I suspect… Reeve will recognize it. Plus, he's in Mideel – as are the Planet's top physicians."

" **Just what is it you suspect**?" He was growling again. If Valentine didn't stop mincing words and spit it out…

"I can't be sure as I've never actually seen it, but… are you familiar with the term 'degradation'?"

" **Degradation**?" A chill ran up his spine. " **As in Genesis Rhaspodos' degradation? That's impossible. His condition was a result of exposure to Jenova**."

"So they said, but can you take Hojo and Hollander's word on it? Besides, you were the subject of experimentation as well. Do you really know what all was done to you?" The frostiness in Valentine's tone was not for him. His host had experienced much of that same experimentation, and Chaos knew from his time in Valentine's head that Hojo's name was still enough to make the gunman's stomach clench.

" **Degradation** …" He hadn't studied the condition closely, only acknowledged it as the reason for Genesis' defection. He had seen one photo, taken early in the progression of the illness. Genesis' skin had been gray and the color drained from even the clothing around the wound. His wing too had been a dull shade rather than the shiny onyx seen in the sole – that they could find – pre-degradation picture of the wing.

But Genesis had been healed, right? " **If it's degradation, then there's a cure**."

"Go to Mideel. Talk to Reeve."

He didn't want to. He was tempted to ignore the injury a while longer and hope it went away. But that hadn't worked so far. It was getting worse, and if he was honest with himself, he didn't know how much longer he could bear it.

" **Hnn** …"

"And Chaos…" unnatural red eyes searched his, "you're welcome." Valentine's cloak made a fluttering sound as he turned on his heel. Chaos stared out at the night city again as the door made a familiar scraping behind him.

" **Mideel** …"

The empty rooftop made no response.

* * *

Many thanks to Viking for her reviews (which brought the grand total of reviews for this story to 70!) and ongoing support. Reviews, favorites, and follows are such an encouragement.

Vendetta

07/29/16


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Kadaj paused at the bottom of the stone steps. A group of little brown birds chirped and hopped around a discarded sandwich at their base. He doubted he would have noticed them previously, but since discovering Roxey's aviary and her interest in birds, his eyes seemed to seek them out of their own accord, and he found himself wishing he knew what they were called. Perhaps, when this meeting was concluded, he would find a library and see if they had a book on bird species. But first, he had to get through this meeting.

White columns the size of tree trunks drew his eyes upwards to the freshly chiseled words. 'Shinra Foundation for the Enhancement of the Planet.' Rufus was losing no time in advancing his image as public do-gooder and philanthropist. No doubt finding Weiss and putting his acts of terrorism to an end played into establishing that image.

Unfortunately for Kadaj, there was no hiding the fact that Chaos and he were no closer to apprehending the ex-Tsviet than when they had last met with Rufus. Chaos had declined to attend this meeting, citing pressing obligations elsewhere – which Kadaj suspected had more to do with the scent of baking emanating from Seventh Heaven than anything else. At least Vendetta was at his side. He stroked her ears with a gloved hand. Her presence made him feel marginally less alone as he prepared to face off with Rufus again.

"Let's go," he said unnecessarily – she padded beside him like a dark shadow regardless of such directions. But the words served to bolster his confidence as he took the steps and entered the gleaming building.

The office administrator barely acknowledged him as she instructed him to have a seat and informed him that he would be taken to Mr. Shinra soon. He recognized the tactic. Making him wait automatically placed him at a disadvantage in the meeting to come. There was nothing for it though – he couldn't just incapacitate the lackeys and enter on his own timeframe like he had before when Jenova, and not Rufus, was his boss.

He chose the chair furthest from the reception desk and picked up a glossy magazine from the table beside him. He flipped through a story on the decline in chocobo racing. The receptionist ignored him. He browsed an article on the opening of a new theater in Edge. The ribbon cutting would be followed by a standing room only performance of a classic play. Kadaj had never been to a play before. Maybe Roxey would like to go?

"Mr. Kadaj, your escort will take you to Mr. Shinra now."

It was a shorter wait than he'd expected and he glanced up to take in his "escort." _No, not her._ He schooled his features and ducked his head to conceal his reaction. The blonde Turk made no such effort to disguise her opinion of him. Her last comments to him aboard the Nibelheim-bound helicopter were seared into the back of his mind. _I still know what you are: a monster._

Elena turned on her heel without saying a word and led him deeper into the building. Its labyrinthine corridors put him in mind of the WRO headquarters, and he experienced the same twitchiness as he had felt when he toured the detainment facilities there.

"Sir, your three o'clock appointment," the Turk announced for Rufus' benefit as she swung the door open into an expansive boardroom. She still hadn't spared so much as a word for Kadaj, which was just as well since he had nothing to say to her either. She joined another Turk in a flanking position behind Rufus.

"Kadaj, so glad you could make it." Rufus's ultra-soft and insincere tone that put Kadaj in mind of snakes for some reason he could not define.

Kadaj elected to pace around the room rather than accepting the chair pulled out opposite Rufus. Vendetta left his side to go sit beside Rufus and licked his fingers. The businessman pulled out a bag and offered her something from inside it. From across the room, Kadaj smelled the scent of fish. _Just great!_ Now both Chaos and Vendetta had abandoned him for their stomachs.

"It seems your minions have been negligent in conveying my reports, _sir_. Otherwise, you would have all the information you needed and not have felt this meeting necessary." Kadaj directed his attention to the Turks behind Rufus for a moment. The Wutainese man remained entirely impassive, but Elena shifted under his gaze. Unfortunately, recalling what he had done to both of them, he could not hold her eyes for long either. Whirling, he glared at Shinra again from behind his hair.

"You mistake me," Rufus purred. "I didn't call you here to discuss your lack of progress." Was there an emphasis on those last few words? "I invited you here to discuss the future of the Planet."

 _The future of the Planet_?

The Wutainese Turk placed a pamphlet on the table. Kadaj picked it up and scanned it. _Rufus Shinra: Voice for the People and the Planet_. Did people really have such short memories?

Rufus leaned forward in his chair and rested his steepled fingers on the long table in front of him. "It seems… the WRO has fallen rather out of favor in recent months. People are calling for something new. Have you heard of 'general elections'? It's about time the citizens of Edge had a true representative, don't you think?"

Rufus unsteepled his fingers and leaned back. His left hand draped over the armrest of his chair and scratched at Vendetta's favorite spot at the base of her tentacle. "Of course, the person the people select to lead them will have need of backers. Can I count on your… support? I'm sure I need not mention the… advantageous situation those who aid our cause might find themselves in?"

Behind Rufus, Elena looked like she wanted to throw up.

This… this was not what Kadaj had expected from the meeting. He had come prepared to deal with demands for progress on the Weiss situation, but this was something entirely different. He considered telling Rufus that he was simply not interested, but it wasn't his style and he dismissed the direct approach almost as soon as he considered it. Besides, it was so rare that he was able to engage in verbal banter with someone as adept at the art as Shinra.

"I'm flattered, _truly_." He clutched his fist over his heart. "But perhaps you haven't heard? I tried to take over the world once… it didn't go so well. These days I've retired from world domination and settled for working as a private investigator."

"Is that so?" Rufus' fingers continued to work their magic on Vendetta, and her eyes had slid half-closed in pleasure. "Well, then, I suggest you yield some results on that front. I would hate for you to disappoint your employer."

Oh, Rufus was good at the game. His none-too-subtle reminder that he was the one funding Kadaj's current endeavor and the reminder of Kadaj's failures in that endeavor deftly maneuvered him back into the power position. Even that didn't entirely account for the off-balance feeling he was having. It certainly didn't help that he couldn't look past Rufus without seeing two of his past victims—one of which had no desire to let bygones be bygones.

The twitchy feeling he had gotten upon arrival hadn't gone away and his lungs craved the fresh air of the outdoors. Best to cut his losses with as much grace as possible and get out.

"As you wish, _sir._ I shall certainly do my best toward that end." He hoped the look he gave Rufus through his bangs reminded the businessman more of Sephiroth than the helpless remnant he felt.

Kadaj strode out of the room, only realizing he couldn't find his way out of the building without help once he stood alone in the corridor. He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure what about this encounter had gotten to him. Rufus tended to have that effect on him. At least he had made his exit before his voice went all high and emotional.

When the door opened behind him, he expected one of the Turks, but it was Vendetta alone who emerged. He glared at her. _Traitor!_ She sat back on her haunches and looked up at him. She blinked, the image of innocence.

Standing, she made her way unerringly through the maze of corridors, past the receptionist, and to the front entrance. Still… that didn't mean he had to forgive her.

Kadaj was still trying to process his encounter with Rufus when he arrived back at the apartment. He stripped off his gloves and was looking forward to removing his boots and settling in the privacy of his own room to think things through. He didn't notice Roxey sitting on the floor with her back against the couch at first.

He was halfway through the living room before he registered the object she twirled in one hand as she held the book she was reading with the other hand. Where had she gotten a shuriken? Wait, a _shuriken_? Why did that sound familiar? He paused, midway through the room, as he considered where he had heard about a missing shuriken. _Yuffie_. As soon as the thought occurred, he was sure the ninja was the true owner of the weapon Roxey absently played with.

He lunged across the remaining few strides separating them and snatched the shuriken from her hand. "What are you doing with this? What goes on in that head of yours?"

Wide, startled eyes gazed up at him and the book fell from her other hand.

His hand was shaking, and a few drops of blood ran down the weapon and splashed onto the carpet from where he had grabbed the blade with his bare hand.

Roxey dashed from the living room into Kadaj's room and pulled the door shut behind her.

Immediately regret filled him. He had let his feelings from dealing with Rufus overflow and intermix with his worry about her… and he had yelled at her. He wasn't sure what the _right_ way to handle this situation was, but it certainly wasn't by yelling at her.

He sighed and set the shuriken aside. He grabbed a few tissues from a box on the table and pressed them against the shallow cut it had made. He needed to apologize. If he ever wanted to win Roxey over, he needed to make an overture now. He knocked gently on the door and then opened it. Roxey huddled in the corner between his bed and the wall. Her shoulders were hunched and shaking.

He sat on the bed a few feet from her. What was he supposed to do now? He had faced off with Cloud and Weiss, and while not victorious in either case, he had managed to hold his own for at least a while – how could one girl make him feel so helpless?

"I'm sorry," he offered, gaining no response from her.

How could he explain? His net life experience was in fact significantly less than hers – and his relationships while Jenova reigned in his head probably didn't count for much anyway. It was a confusing road he was trying to navigate, and he didn't yet have the skills to handle this relationship.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just don't know what _to_ do sometimes. And I worry about you. Why do you keep taking things? Anything you need, you know we'll make sure you have it. If you keep stealing, something bad could happen to you, and I couldn't stand that. And you don't talk, and I don't know what I should do." It all came out in one big rush – all his fears and insecurities and the helplessness he felt. He felt empty and yet… relieved at having dumped them all out. It was also a little scary – putting himself out like that made him feel terribly exposed, but it wasn't like she was going to _tell_ anyone.

She didn't say anything, but he hadn't expected a verbal response from her. Her shoulders had stopped shaking – maybe that was a good thing. In the silence, he considered his last words. It was laughable, really, him demanding that she change her behavior. Him, who had such a great track record for innocent and wise decision-making. Ha! A laugh sprung from him at the thought and metamorphosed midway into a choking sob. He put his hand to his mouth to force it back in and saw that the blood had dried over the shuriken wound. How easily physical wounds healed – if only the scars on a soul were so easily attended to.

"Maybe it would be better if you didn't come around anymore. I'm not the best… person. I—I'm not a good role model for you." He started to stand. Emptiness and loss threatened to break free in another sob, but he warred against them and thrust them back down.

"Magpies…" The word was muffled by the pillow Roxey's face was buried in, and he wasn't sure he had heard her right.

Had she actually spoken? Or was it just wishful thinking on his part – a misconstruing of the sounds of her crying?

"Magpies?" he ventured as he eased back down onto the bed.

Her head was still buried in the pillow, but the back of it move up and down in a nod. She lifted her head just enough from the pillow to speak more clearly. "Crows collect shiny objects… magpies too. Not just shiny objects… things that may be of use later. You asked."

 _What_? She was talking, but it made no sense. What had Luxiere said? _Only about the birds_. But there weren't any birds here – just the two of them. He threw his thoughts back, but all that came to mind were the feelings he had felt. What had he asked? Somehow it was terribly important that he remember – that he not mess this opportunity up when she had finally spoken to him. He had offered to disassociate from her, but what had he asked before that? The words came back to him in a rush, " _Why do you keep taking things_?" he had asked.

"You…" He licked his lips. "You're the magpie… and you take things because they may be useful to you later?"

Her head nodded into the pillow again. It made a certain level of sense. He didn't know for sure which birds magpies were, but he had seen crows around often enough. They were prime scavengers. Who knew how long Roxey had been a street kid? Or how often she'd had to do without?

But the important thing – the _only_ important thing – was she had chosen to talk to him.

* * *

A huge thank you to PettyWhiteRose for favoriting and reviewing. If you like the Avengers, check out her two fics: One Day at a Time and Learning the Ropes.

Vendetta

08/12/16


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

" **Sleipnir?** **You named your motorcycle Sleipnir**?"

"You have a better name in mind?" Kadaj asked as he strapped a bundle of supplies into place behind the seat.

" ** _I_ don't feel the need to emulate Cloud**. **And _I_ don't talk to inanimate objects**."

Kadaj paused for a moment. He knew Cloud called his motorcycle "Fenrir," but _that_ was not why he chose to name his motorcycle. _Was it_? Was he still trying to model himself after his so-called big brother?

It hardly mattered. He liked the bike and wanted to name it, simple as that. "Sleipnir" was a fitting name for a fast steed, and he refused to let Chaos goad him out of using it.

He turned his back on Chaos and directed his steps towards Seventh Heaven, passing under the stone angel as he did so. He wondered what they had made of the sudden reappearance of Yuffie's shuriken on the Seventh Heaven bar. He rather hoped the subject didn't come up. He just needed to pick up some provisions for their trip, and then he and Chaos would be on their way.

Chaos had been pressing for them to check into Mideel – a logical choice given the way the Lifestream bubbled up near the surface there – but that plan had been put on hold when a report came in of a sighting in Junon that _could_ be Weiss. Kadaj was glad for the change. Junon could be reached by land as well as air or sea, whereas Mideel could not. He much preferred motorbikes to relying on others for transport. They could always visit Mideel later if Junon didn't yield any results.

The sound of shouting stopped him in his tracks as he raised his hand to push through the doors of Seventh Heaven. He didn't recognize the loudest voice.

"…don' want that sucka around my kid! All I care about is Marlene, you know that! An' you let that slimeball piece of larva hang out here!"

 _Marlene_? Pieces clicked into place. The loud man would be Marlene's father, then. Kadaj was inclined to forget she had any parents besides Cloud and Tifa. In the month or so he and Chaos had been neighbors to Seventh Heaven, this was the first time Marlene's father had shown up. Some father. But then, maybe that was his own bitterness speaking.

"Barret, please, it's not like that. Marlene hasn't even been around Kadaj – neither she nor Denzel have." Tifa's calming voice did nothing but further incense the man and unleash another round of vitriol.

"Yeah, but you've let 'em play with that street kid o' his. I don' want Marlene hangin' around with no trash that remnant drags in. Either you tell him where to shove it, or I'm takin' her outta here!"

Leather creaked as Kadaj's fists tightened. It was one thing for Barret to insult him, but to drag Roxey into it was a whole different thing.

Kadaj was dangerously close to the edge, and he knew it. He felt a strong impulse to push forward and unleash the inferno within him against the man who dared attack Roxey. Equally strong was the desire to turn around and ride Sleipnir until his head was clear again. He pushed against the door with his shoulder and inhaled for his backlash against this Barret.

"Papa!" The girl's squeal of delight as she bounded down Seventh Heaven's steps and raced into the arms of the burly black man halted Kadaj halfway in the door.

"Marlene! How's my girl? You've grown two feet since I seen ya last!" Barret's biceps, roughly the size of a full-grown Zolom, bulged as he swung Marlene through the air.

Kadaj released his breath and let the door fall shut without entering. He leaned against the side of the building, taking in and releasing one shuddering breath after another. He would deal with Barret later. Later, when Marlene wasn't there. He still hadn't spent any time with her or Denzel, and now he knew that was intentional. Tifa had been keeping them apart.

Whatever trust he had thought he'd earned with Seventh Heaven's residents was an illusion. They still didn't trust him around the kids. And why should they? Last time he had interacted with Denzel, he had taken the boy captive and brainwashed him along with the other children of the Geostigma. Denzel hadn't been a child in his eyes at the time – no, he had been a tool in Kadaj's relentless pursuit of Jenova's ambition.

With a huff, Kadaj pushed away from the building and headed back towards the apartment. He could gather enough supplies there for their short trip to Junon.

Chaos raised an eyebrow at him as he passed, but Kadaj ignored him.

He took the steps up to the apartment two at a time and stormed into the apartment still consumed with thoughts of Barret and Seventh Heaven.

Roxey glanced up from the table littered with drawing supplies. Her smile at seeing him froze as she took in his expression. She glanced at the other person seated at the table, drawing Kadaj's attention along with hers to the boy.

 _Denzel_. What was he doing here? The rage that had been building in Kadaj boiled over. How dare that boy be here! Bad enough he had to face Elena's recriminations and listen to Barret's ranting; he wouldn't tolerate it here in his own home.

His elbow caught on the vase of lemongrass and sent it flying. It splintered into shards of glass and water that trailed down the wall and pooled on the floor.

"I was just showing Roxey how to draw some things," Denzel murmured as he stood and backed away with downcast eyes.

The panicked look on both kids' faces fanned the flames inside him. Anger and guilt intermingled and combusted until his chest felt like it might burst. He could _not_ handle meeting with the boy face to face for the first time right now.

"Get out! Just get out!"

The boy bolted for the door, hugging the wall as he passed Kadaj to keep as much distance between them as possible. Glass crunched under his feet as he made his getaway. At the doorway, he darted under Chaos' arm. _Great_. Just what he needed was for Chaos to bear witness to this little fiasco as well.

Kadaj turned back just in time to see the door slam behind Roxey as she fled into his room. His shoulders slumped. Whatever progress he had made with her the day before, he had just flushed with his outburst.

Well, talking with her had seemed to work the last time. After a moment, he followed her path and jiggled the handle, but the door was locked. This was yet another time he wished Materia was not off-limits to him. He could easily break the door down, but he didn't want to alarm her further. Neither did he want Chaos, who he could hear crunching across the glass behind him, to hear him pleading with her to open the door.

He leaned into the door, but it didn't give.

The faint scent of smoke registered in his nostrils. He pushed harder against the door.

" **Move over**." Chaos' bulk filled the hallway behind him, and Kadaj leaned against the wall to give him room as he expertly picked the lock with a pocketknife. Sometimes the thought of a thousand years to pick up random skills was enviable… today, though, Kadaj just wanted to make it through to nightfall without any more catastrophes. He started to push in, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him.

" **Go easy. The girl's had it rough and then you barge in and scare off the one friend she's managed to make. Just… go easy**."

Things really were bad if he was going to be taking social skills – or was it parenting? – advice from Chaos. Still, the demon had a point. It was just starting to sink in how badly he had messed up this time. He could only hope Roxey would hear him out and understand.

The door swept open… to reveal Kadaj's bare room. He stepped in and looked all the way behind the bed to be certain. Nothing. Just the open window looking over a barren street. The window had been closed earlier.

On second glance, not nothing. A scrap of paper smoldered, leaving a burnt ring in the carpet. Kadaj picked it up and shook away the last tinge of flame. Above the charred edge rose a childishly drawn round head with silver hair next to what could only be a guard hound's tentacle. Kadaj crumpled the scrap in his hand.

"I knew about the sticky fingers, but I didn't know she was a firebug too." The otter had slipped in under Chaos and stood considering the ashy mess as he held his cowboy hat in front of him and fingered its edge.

Frustrated, Kadaj turned back to where Chaos' form still darkened the hallway. "Let's go," he said as he brushed past.

"Do yeh suppose this is covered by renters' insurance? Yeh do have renters' insurance, yeah?" Kenji's whisper carried down the hall, but if Chaos responded, Kadaj didn't hear it.

Outside, Kadaj straddled his motorcycle, released the kickstand, and squeezed the throttle. They had a long trip ahead of them, no sense in wasting time.

For miles, Kadaj rode without thinking at all. He rode and let the wind wash over his skin and cool his temper. As he began to come back to himself, he relished the feel of the motorcycle beneath him. Each dip and swell of the pavement transferred sensations to his stomach in a way that was hypnotic and soothing as well as thrilling. The vibrations moved through the motorcycle's rubber grips into his leather gloves and up his arms. There was something immeasurably right about the feel of the motorcycle beneath him and the wind through his hair.

Tifa had tried to convince him at one point to wear a helmet. He was glad he had refused. She didn't even trust him around the kids – how dare she try to advise him on anything? She wasn't his mother.

Strangely enough, though, it had been _her_ image rather than Jenova's that had come to mind when Cid had made his foul remarks over the phone earlier in the week.

 _Mothers_. _Fathers_. He didn't want to think about any of it, not Tifa or Denzel, not Roxey or the damage he had done. But avoiding it didn't change a thing. The smell of smoke still clung to his nostrils despite the air whipping around him.

He was _not_ Roxey's father, and he was only fooling himself if he thought he was doing her any favors.

* * *

I apologize for the lapse in updates (although not too much since no one seems to have noticed ;) Thanks for hanging in there with this story - your support is greatly appreciated! Please feel free to leave a review. And a big thank you to PettyWhiteRose for her recent review of Chapter 10.

Sleipnir and Fenrir both come from Norse mythology in case you were curious.

Vendetta

10-07-16


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

The shadows cast by the occasional tree along the highway had lengthened into grasping specters by the time Chaos – the otter once again perched on his shoulder – neared Junon. He had adopted a considerably slower pace than the one the whelp had set out at.

Not that he was scared to reach those speeds on the flat highway between Edge and Junon, no, but the gouges in the highway left behind when the Sister Ray – the giant Mako canon that had been the pride and joy of Shinra's Weapons Development Department – was moved to Midgar had never been patched and many of them had spread out and settled into persistent potholes.

Again, not a terrible problem if it weren't for the issue with his shoulder. Fate just had to go and send them to Junon of all places when every bump sent blinding sheets of pain piercing through his body. Weiss was going to pay just a little extra for this if they caught up with him in Junon.

His motorcycle tire caught the edge of another pothole, splashing its accumulated rainwater up around his legs, and he winced at the jar that jostled his bad shoulder. _That_ issue wasn't going to wait much longer. He needed to get to Mideel, sooner rather than later. Just… not soon enough to make him to reveal his problem to the whelp. It had been bad enough going to Vincent, and it would be worse going to Reeve – there was no need to parade his weaknesses in front of anyone else.

Deal with Weiss in Junon, then head to Mideel. That was the plan. Simple enough. He could wait that long.

Chaos smelled Junon before they reached it. Neither the briny scent of the ocean nor the recent rain managed to mask the polluted odor of a small but crowded city that had ignored all common sense when it came to sanitation. And they called his kind selfish. At least he had the self-interest to keep his living space clean and not poison the very air and water he needed to live.

Not that it was the native residents of Junon at fault. No, once again this was a sin that could only be laid firmly at the feet of Shinra. Junon hadn't always been this way. At one point, it had been a quaint little village, but that was before Shinra had set up a secondary headquarters and military outpost there.

The concrete bulk of Upper Junon, with the dual arms of its artificial harbor cradling the ocean like some type of slumbering beast, dwarfed the tiny fishing village. Meanwhile, the flat concrete of the airport blocked out the sun from the village below it in a manner reminiscent of the plates of Midgar over the slums. For all its scientific advancements, sometimes Shinra lacked any imagination whatsoever.

What had started with Mako contamination from Shinra's reactor on the ocean floor spread with the occupation of the city by the military personnel stationed there who had no personal investment in the community. If toxins seeped into the ocean or pollutants clogged the air, what was that to them? They would be redeployed elsewhere before it could have an impact on them personally.

Eventually, the oppression and pollution from Upper Junon seeped down into the village below. The conditions had worsened until Junon was as well known for its polluted waters and smoggy air as it was for its unique profile and giant Sister Ray canon – which, of course, was gone now as well, its carcass still in Midgar where it had fired its last and inadvertently brought down the Shinra building.

The WRO had made attempts to improve the conditions in Junon, to be sure, and Shinra no longer had a presence there, but humans were a stubborn lot and habits decades in the making didn't disappear overnight. Rubbish still floated along the surface of the ocean and bumped gently against the hulls of the few boats moored at the pier as they made their way into the village. Paper and discarded packaging blew in the streets and more than once Chaos had to swerve to miss larger debris on their way to the elevator.

Upper Junon could only be accessed by land via the giant elevator on its southeastern side. Chaos supposed that was Shinra's idea of making the military installation more secure, but it also meant evacuating the city would be a near impossibility in the case of a disaster. That wasn't _his_ problem though.

Chaos brought his motorbike to a halt, and the otter jumped off his good shoulder and shook out his fur while Chaos pressed the buttons summoning the elevator.

"Roight, now how do we go about findin' Kadaj?" the otter asked as he straightened his cowboy hat and adjusted his neckerchief.

Chaos nodded at the guard hound that had materialized at their side when they entered the fishing village. He had caught glimpses of her fading in and out of sight on the ride down from Edge, keeping pace with them even as she explored the fields to either side of them. Apparently their slower pace was more to her taste than the whelp's mad rush. The sight of her had been the one evidence that Kadaj was in fact headed for Junon.

Not that Chaos cared where the moody whelp went, but if he was going to come all this way and _not_ go directly to Mideel, then the kid had better be there too.

" **The cat can find him**." She always did. Not even the overwhelming scent of Mako-poisoned water and rotting garbage would be enough to deter her.

Dusk was falling on Upper Junon, making it as dark as the village below by the time they emerged from the elevator. Streetlights lit the road and brightened the archways as they followed the guard hound down through the levels as the road wound towards the ocean. She stopped in front of an inn, and sure enough, the whelp's bike – Sleipnir, Chaos smirked at the whelp's sentimentality – was parked in front of it.

He pulled his bike in next to the other one and waited for the otter to lightly hop down again, grateful momentarily that the otter always seemed to choose his good shoulder to ride on. Then again, how did the otter know to choose his good shoulder? He cast a suspicious eye at the robot, who seemed blissfully unaware as he bounded after that cat. Nah, no way the fuzzball knew anything about his injury's failure to heal.

The cat didn't head into the inn but rather down towards the water. Sure enough, the whelp stood out on one of the concrete extenders that formed one side of the artificial harbor. The light of streetlamps illuminated the silver crests of the water as they flowed in and then settled out. The silver highlights of the teen's hair glinted back in reply, gently swept by the air coming in off the ocean. His black leather moved in the same breeze. There was something noble in his stance, but when he cocked his head over his shoulder at Vendetta's approach, something seemed broken in his features.

 _Gah._ The pain was making Chaos see things, that was all. He inhaled sharply as he dismounted and followed the furrier members of his team.

Find Weiss, mop the floor with him, then Mideel.

* * *

Kadaj turned back out towards the waters. He wasn't in any kind of mood for Chaos' sarcastic wit or Kenji's chipper comments and didn't offer them any welcome as they pulled up and dismounted from Chaos' motorcycle.

Despite the stench, the waters had a calming influence on him that he craved. He was so terribly tired. Tired of it all. The fighting. Trying to measure up. The failures. The rejection. The loneliness.

Whenever he had managed to shift his thoughts from his latest snafu with Roxey, he only found himself thinking about his brothers. He clenched a hand over his heart. The emptiness he felt at their absence was as painful and as tangible as any physical wound he had ever endured.

He continued to ignore Chaos when he came to a halt beside him.

The little hairs on the back of his neck stood up. But not on account of the demon.

"Well, well, little brother," the words came from behind, and Kadaj whirled to face Weiss as the white-haired man stepped out onto the extender, flanked by dozen or so men.

"Don't call me that," Kadaj hissed between clenched teeth. He brought Souba's blade up before him. "This ends tonight!" he challenged, but his heart wasn't in it. He was so bloody tired of it all.

Beside him, Chaos growled and Vendetta bristled.

"Now, is that any way to talk? And here I was just going on to my inferiors about your promise and potential."

Kadaj didn't wait to hear any more. He leapt forward, and Souba clashed against Weiss' gunblades. Using the force of his blade, Kadaj pushed them apart. "I don't know what you think you see, but this is over now."

Weiss' laughter sent a chill across Kadaj's skin. Distantly, he was aware of Choas floating up on spread wings to engage Weiss' lackeys. Vendetta sprang past them, and he heard the song of Kenji's bola.

"It's only beginning… you'll see. _When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, then we gods shall descend from the sky on wings of light and dark_."

 _What?_ Almost, the words seemed familiar, but… "That's not how it goes!" He rushed at Weiss again.

"How would you know, little brother? You've always been in ignorance and darkness. Foolish boy, you even thought Jenova was your mummy." Again Weiss laughed.

Kadaj screamed his rage and rushed in at Weiss.

Weiss' blades pressed him back until he felt the curve of the extender under his feet. One more step back and he would be pushed off into the ocean.

" _You. Don't. Know. Me_. _"_ He'd said the same words to Cloud when they had clashed at Seventh Heaven. Cloud had conceded his point and that had been the beginning of a fresh, if rocky, start for them. Somehow, he didn't think that would be the case with Weiss.

Weiss' laughter deepened. "I know you're neutered and impotent."

 _What?_ Kadaj's disjointed memories from Sephiroth were just intact enough to give him some idea what those terms meant. And he was quite positive neither of them described him.

"Not able to use Materia or activate a single summon, you're a shadow of what you should be. You should be Pure!"

Enough! Kadaj leapt in the air and angled Souba at Weiss' heart. Materia flashed, and Kadaj found himself on his back, his ears ringing.

When Kadaj's hearing returned, Weiss' words continued, "…but you could have it back, you know. You could be one of us, brother."

"What?" he gasped out as he gathered his strength for another attack. If only the man would ever make any sense.

"Yes, I could give it back to you, the power and the control." Weiss held a gleaming ball of Materia aloft and studied it in the light of the streetlamps.

Kadaj looked at the orb and swallowed. "You mean…" He swallowed again and turned his gaze to meet Weiss'. "You… You're saying I could manipulate Materia again?"

Weiss laughed. "That and so much more!"

Kadaj blinked. He had given up on the thought of ever using Materia again, but the thought of holding it once more, controlling it and binding it to his will… He swallowed again.

"Let us be partners and brothers together. Let us restore strength and purity to the Planet!" Weiss held out his hand.

Kadaj looked at Weiss' outstretched hand. It was an offer he'd never expected – a chance at brotherhood. There wasn't much time to consider. He looked to the Materia held aloft in Weiss' other hand, the orb's shimmering beckoning to him. Almost he could feel the rush that came with implanting it under his skin, its warmth as he activated it there. Every argument he might have made faded behind these two desires: a brother's acceptance and the thrill of Materia use.

Would it be so bad to have someone to guide him again? He had been failing miserably on his own. A part of him missed the certainty he had felt when following Jenova's lead – almost as much as he missed the smoothness of Materia against his skin.

What was there to hold him back? He was only a liability to Roxey. She was better off without him. She had Cloud and Tifa… and Luxiere too. Cloud and Tifa would probably be relieved to see him gone. Chaos didn't need anyone, and Kenji was just a robot. He glanced to where the two were finishing off the men who had arrived with Weiss. Clearly they were enhanced men to have lasted as long as they had against Chaos and Kenji… and Vendetta.

He looked back to Weiss' still outstretched hand as he heard the last of Weiss' men fall.

"Vendetta. Stay girl." She didn't belong in this. _She_ wasn't a monster.

He watched, an enthralled spectator, as his hand reached out and clasped Weiss'.

* * *

Thank you to Nat for favoriting! And a huge welcome to guest reviewer MissMadHatter and consistent reviewer Viking. You guys have no idea how much your reviews mean to me!

Vendetta

10-21-16


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

In the heat of battle, the pain in Chaos' shoulder faded to the background, though later on he would be paying for that one hit he'd taken. But then, the other guy was worse off, so that was some justice, he supposed.

He felled the last of his opponents and turned to see how the whelp fared against Weiss.

"Vendetta, stay girl." The teen's firm voice carried to Chaos even though he spoke the words softly.

Chaos froze as Kadaj's hand reached out to take Weiss'. With a flash of yellow Materia, they were gone.

He stood there stunned, for how long he could not say.

The otter clambered up beside him. " _Oh clams_!"

Oh clams, indeed. _This_ was not how it was supposed to go.

He had imagined several possible outcomes to this venture. The most likely of which was Weiss dead and the whelp distraught over not being able to redeem him. He had even contemplated the possibility they wouldn't be able to find Weiss at all.

He had never foreseen this outcome.

He was going to _find_ the whelp and then he was going to _kill_ the whelp.

"Well… I reckon I better inform Kunsel." The otter's resigned voice stood out against the sound of the waves lapping steadily against the edges of the artificial harbor.

The peacefulness of the night rubbed at odd angles against Chaos' inner turmoil.

" **Wait** ," he ordered.

He was going to _kill_ the whelp. And then find someone with a Phoenix Down to bring him back. And then he was going to _kill_ him WRO had no part in it. " **Let's keep this to ourselves for the moment**."

"It's not really in my programmin' to keep secrets from the boss, yeh know?"

Chaos fixed him with a glare. It might take a little while to catch up to Weiss and Kadaj, and in the meanwhile he felt the strong urge to pulverize someone or something.

"Ookay, so maybe I have ways around the programmin'." The otter shrunk back from him. "But what good is puttin' it off? You don't think he'll change his mind, do yeh? It's not like Weiss kidnapped him. You saw him go off of his own free will, roight? If we don't say anything and people get hurt because of it…"

" **Just… give me time to think**." He strode back to his motorcycle and brought it to life with a roar that was less satisfying than it should have been.

He really needed to kill something…

He left Sleipnir where it sat. There wasn't anything he could do about it at the moment. Besides, it wasn't like he wanted to look at the thing every day. This was one trip he had no desire to keep mementos from.

The ride back to Edge was a blur of dark countryside. There was no particular reason for heading back to Edge, but he had no desire to linger in Junon.

Back at the apartment, Chaos slammed the door behind him. Broken glass crackled under his boots from the vase of lemongrass the whelp had shattered before they left for Junon.

He should be _glad_. Now he would have the place to himself. It wasn't like they were _friends_ or anything. After a moment's consideration, he made his way into Kadaj's room – Kadaj's _old_ room. His now.

He sat down hard on the bed and waited to feel the sense of satisfaction as the springs squealed in protest.

The hot, clenched spot in his chest persisted.

He should just walk away. He didn't need the whelp. He didn't need anyone.

His shoulder twinged, shooting pain simultaneously down his arm and through one of his wings.

 _Right._ He still needed Reeve to tell him about the degradation and its cure. Would the founder of the WRO help him? Or would he turn his back on Chaos when he found out about Kadaj's defection?

Maybe he should have let the otter spread the word. At least then he would have some idea how people were going to react.

How was he supposed to tell them? Cloud with his oversized sword. Tifa… well, he could say goodbye to her cinnamon rolls. Shinra certainly wouldn't be happy with this development. Valentine would no doubt give him a knowing look that made no sense whatsoever. Roxey… he had no idea what he would say to the girl. At least she wouldn't say anything back to him.

He growled. Who said it fell to him to keep the whelp out of trouble? It wasn't like he had ever signed on to be the whelp's keeper. Just because they were roommates didn't make him Chaos' responsibility.

Chaos kicked the nightstand so hard it burst, sending its contents and splinters of wood flying across the room. He stood for a moment, staring down at the weapons that had spilled out onto the floor. What was it Kadaj had called them? Velvet Nightmare and Dual Hound. The whelp had only just gotten them back from the repair shop a day or so before.

He picked the weapons up from the floor and regarded them critically. After a moment, he pocketed them. The Inner Voice cleared its throat. Chaos smirked. Served the whelp right.

He really needed to kill something…

The apartment door creaked open and admitted a timid looking Kenji and the overgrown cat. Chaos wasn't sure how they had gotten back to Edge and didn't really care.

" **Let's go** ," he said as he brushed by them and out the door.

"Er, sure. Where're we goin'?"

" **The marshlands, southeast of Midgar** ," he growled.

"Roight!" The otter's eager footsteps echoed his for a moment. "Wait! What? Why? That place is infested with Zoloms!"

" **Exactly**." He really, really needed to kill something. The need was even stronger than the ache in his shoulder.

* * *

Kadaj laughed.

All the searching for Weiss' base of operations… and never once had they thought to check here.

He laughed so hard he sounded almost as maniacal as Weiss. The luminescent glow of the tree trunks continued to rush past. It was perfect. There was only one destination beyond the Sleeping Forest.

The Forgotten City had been an ideal base when Kadaj and his brothers had used it. The Cetra's dwellings were not only still intact, they were furnished and ready for use: a whole city of ready-made and empty housing, perfect for stashing their army of abducted children. Better yet, no one came there. The title 'Forgotten City' wasn't for aesthetic resonance alone.

The cargo van was empty except for Weiss and him. After using the Exit Materia, they had taken a large speedboat from Junon north to Bone Village where the van had been waiting. The jump seats in the back were obviously intended for a squad of men.

Weiss didn't show any remorse for his men left behind on Junon's dark pier, however. It was like they had never existed.

Kadaj traced Souba's hilt with one finger. It would be different with him. Weiss and he shared something unique. Theirs was a brotherhood.

* * *

Welcome to new follower Virgo and thanks to Stompy and Viking for their recent reviews.

Please say a prayer for our friends in New Zealand as they recover from recent earthquakes.

To my readers in the States (and any other countries that happen to celebrate at the same time): Happy Thanksgiving! I am thankful for each of the people I have met through writing in the past few years and for each of you readers who have bravely taken this journey with me.

Vendetta

11/18/16


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

The Zolom reared up again, its hood flared to the fullest. Blood poured from a score of bullet holes in its blue-green scales. _Why wasn't it dead yet?_ Not that Chaos was complaining. He desperately needed this – a flesh and blood enemy to unleash his rage on.

The otter stood on its hind legs behind him and swung its bola. The cat, on the other hand, had refused to set paw in the marshlands, lying down on dry ground and waiting for them there.

The Zolom's teeth showed as it hissed in irritation, but Chaos directed his attention to the real threat: its forked tail with multiple stingers. He fired the Velvet Nightmare at it again as it swept toward him.

The otter's bola whirred past him and caught on the Zolom's tail with a _thwack_ , wrapping all the stingers into one bundle. In retaliation, the giant serpent lashed him with its bound tail and tossed him a hundred yards. Chaos kept his eyes on the snake's tail, still dangerous despite being trussed up. Behind him Kenji splashed in the shallow waters.

 _Bring it on, snake._

Chaos' wings lifted him above the snake, and he tucked them in tight to swoop down with his fist extended. Dual Hound collided with its head at the same time he fired several more shots from the Velvet Nightmare. Distracted by watching his hits land, he didn't notice the tail rising up until it struck him. He plummeted from the air and struck the ground hard. It took a moment to force air back into his lungs and his shoulder felt on fire.

He rolled onto his back and brought his weapons up, prepared to fend off the Zolom's attack, but the Zolom's head fell to the ground beside him with a solid _whump_. He watched it for a moment to be sure it wouldn't rise again, and then cradled his shoulder. He let out a gasp, trying to force the pain back under control. The degradation-infected wound throbbed where he had landed on it.

Finally recovering enough to stand, Chaos rose and wiped the Dual Hound against his thigh, smearing blood against dark leather to dry and flake off later. He regarded the weapon. He hadn't been sure it would fit, but it turned out the weapon was made to adjust according to the size of the fist and wrist wearing it. At its largest setting it accommodated him satisfactorily, if a bit on the tight side.

Likewise, the gun had performed in a manner he couldn't really complain about. He scowled down at the Velvet Nightmare. If only he could say the same for its last owner.

"Did yeh see that? Now there's a corker of a snake!" The otter bounded down off the dead Zolom's back where he had climbed up to inspect the massive carcass. "Crikey! Oi've an idea! Let's start a show on the telly! We'd call it _Zolom Hunter_ an' go about fightin' an' filmin' the beasties." If possible, his accent had cranked up a few notches.

Chaos turned to comment to Kadaj on the dubious nature of Kenji's claim to fame considering the otter had spent the greater portion of the battle on his back in the swamp… but Kadaj wasn't there. Chaos had dealt death to the Zolom, but the bigger issue was unchanged. The whelp had abandoned him and there was nothing he could do about it.

 _Stalemate_ : the sensation of doom when no moves were left. Powerlessness was not a state Chaos tolerated meekly.

Was that it, though? Did Kadaj's defection mean stalemate? He had once likened both Kadaj and Rufus to chess queens rather than kings. What happened when a queen was captured? It was a loss, but not the end of the game. The tadpole's words floated back to him, ' _Pawn promoted to Queen.'_

Was it possible? Kadaj had been taken, but could he be regained? What move must Chaos make to achieve that end? Not that he cared or anything. If the whelp wanted to go play bad guy, what was that to _him_? Still, Chaos had never been one to give up his toys without a fight, and he didn't feel inclined to start today.

He was going to get the whelp back, and he didn't care how many pawns he had to sacrifice to make it happen.

"Hey, I miss 'im too." The otter lost his joviality and pulled his hat off.

Was he really that transparent? " **What do you know about it? You're just a robot**."

"Nah, technically I'm an artificial intelligence unit, yeh know? But all anyone ever hears is the 'artificial' bit an' they never consider anything further. But I have feelings too, yeh know? And I guess I got used to havin' the kid around too."

" **Hnn… guess we'll just have to get him back then**."

"That's the spirit! Jus' cause he's gone an' gotten himself stuck up a gum tree doesn't mean we have to leave him there."

Chaos caught himself absently rubbing his shoulder and deliberately lowered his hand to his side when he noticed the otter watching. Recent tumble notwithstanding, that was becoming a bad habit.

"I'm thinking a trip to Mideel first, though?"

Chaos swung his head to look at Kenji, and the otter backed up under his glare. Nosy little robot. " **So, Vincent couldn't keep it to himself, after all**."

"No, no, at least not that I know of. I just put two and two together, yeh know? I'd have to be blind not see how yer shoulder's been bothering you ever since Gongaga," the otter ticked his point off on one of the toes on his paw, "and all your symptoms match up with the research we've recovered on Genesis' degradation." The otter ticked off a second toe. "And if that's the case, then Reeve is the guy you've got to see, I figure. As I was sayin', AI does stand for 'articifical _intelligence_ ,' yeah?"

 _Great. Just great._ Of all the people… animals, things, whatever… to stumble across his single biggest secret – he refused to say weakness – it had to be the one creature that couldn't keep its mouth shut to save its own water-repellent hide.

" **Who have you told**?" He took a step towards the otter.

Kenji stepped back a pace. "No one, not even the boss. If Kunsel knows, it didn't come from me. Honest. I'd swear on my mum's grave."

" **You don't have a mother – you were invented in a laboratory**." Perhaps it was a tad cruel of him to point out, but nice wasn't his modus operandi even on days when his shoulder wasn't trying to kill him and his sidekick robot wasn't poking around where he didn't belong.

"Tsk, an' here I thought slayin' a Zolom would put you in a better mood."

" **Hnn** …" Chaos turned and headed back through the marshlands toward where they had stashed his motorbike and the cat. The ground sucked at his feet with each step, only letting go with a reluctant sucking sound, and he tried to pick the grassier bits to step on as they held his weight better.

"Mideel, then?"

" **No**. **Edge first**." After showering away the foul smell of this accursed swamp, he needed to confront the prominent members of AVALANCHE with Kadaj's defection… and declare his intention to bring the teen back alive. _Oh goody._

* * *

Kidnapping. It always came back to kidnapping. Kadaj pushed the last Costa captive forward into a holding pen, pulling the door shut and slamming the bolt into place. The man turned and pounded against the bars as soon as Kadaj's grip released him. A bit of spittle landed on Kadaj's face as the man shouted expletives at him. Kadaj wiped it away with the back of his glove and turned his back to the cell.

Weiss clapped a hand against his shoulder. "Well done, brother."

Three simple words, and yet they warmed his entire being and made everything right again, like the world slanting back to horizontal after being tipped on its side.

"Your labor and your toil will see their reward. Soon, the Planet will return to its state of glory and greatness!"

How could he argue the methods when Weiss so clearly desired to make things right with the Planet again? He was no one to cast stones. Hadn't he also taken people captive in his own endeavor? And for the most part, Weiss' captives were adults and not children.

Kadaj glanced to the machine now occupying the greater portion of the town square formerly belonging to the Cetra. Yellow liquid coursed through clear plastic tubing, the broken down components of Manipulate Materia. He didn't understand the finer points of it, only that the system was loosely modeled after the Mako-suits once worn by the Tsviets. The effect it had on the people, on the other hand, _that_ he'd witnessed firsthand on the last group to be exposed. Weiss was preparing for another round as soon as the holding pens were full again.

Instead of being able to influence a single person with Materia, the machine allowed Weiss to tap into whole groups and bring them around to his way of thinking, creating a durable effect that functioned for a few days even in his absence. A few speeches a week and he had an army at his disposal. With overly bright eyes and unquestioning compliance, they'd fall on their swords if Weiss asked them to.

A rebellious smirk crept onto Kadaj's face as he recalled that _he_ had not needed a machine or Materia to control his own army. It slid into a frown as he recalled Jenova's voice in his head compelling him as well as his army… and the specific faces in that army. Denzel's, like all the rest, had been blank of all personality and individuality.

Vividly he remembered the look of outrage on Marlene's face and Cloud's determination to retrieve the boy. A small part of him had longed for someone to show that intensity on his behalf.

But this was different. The prisoners he brought in weren't all as hostile as the one he'd just dealt with. Truly, he suspected half the members of Weiss' army would follow him without the Materia. Years they had lived in poverty and hopelessness – first under the tyranny of Shinra, then trying to pick themselves up in the aftermath of its collapse – trapped beneath circumstances they could not control. If Shinra had been bad, at least then they'd had a war to throw their frustrations into. The promise of better things following the company's demise and the WRO's ascendency had not come to fruition for many of them, and a fomenting sense of anger and injustice brewed without an outlet. Weiss's speeches about taking back the Planet and restoring purity struck a chord with many of them. Their longing stretched them tight, like guitar strings, only needing the slightest plucking of Materia to make them his willing slaves. They believed Weiss when he said he would bring about great change.

Kadaj believed him as well. He glanced back at the holding pens and then away. The ends would justify the means.

Nevertheless, Kadaj renewed his intention to talk to Weiss about making Edge off-limits for recruitment. There wasn't anything _wrong_ with Weiss' campaign, but he didn't want to see familiar faces – Johnny or Luxiere or the others he had come into contact with in Edge – here. And he could emphasize to Weiss the wisdom of not twisting AVALANCHE's tail. The last thing they needed was Cloud and associates interfering.

* * *

I apologize for the delay in making this chapter available. Thank you all for hanging in there and sticking with this story. It will continue even if there are longer periods between the updates.

Special thanks to Viking for helping me improve this chapter and for her faithful reviews! Also, special welcome to new followers/favoriters Jem, Anima, and Tcuisine. I appreciate you all.

Kenji wishes me to mention that this chapter is posted in fond respect for the late Steve Irwin and no offense is intended for those who are fans of The Crocodile Hunter.

Oh, and if you happen to be a Kenji fan (or a Kunsel fan), I have a new one-shot origin story for him entitled "Not in the Programmin', Mate." Please feel free to click on my profile to locate it.

Vendetta

02/17/17


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Chaos' nose tickled. Scratching it would require waking up all the way and he much preferred to stay in his current state of half-awake. The tickle persisted.

" _Ah-CHOO_."

So much for the idea of staying blissfully in the realm of semi-conscious. Finally awake but refusing to open his eyes to the unkindness of the morning sun, he noticed a warm weight pinning his torso to the bed. _What?_

His eyes popped open. A massive black mound of fur covered his midsection. Either he had grown an awful lot of fur during the night or a certain guard hound had decided to cuddle.

" **Cat, you've got five seconds to get off**."

Her massive head turned his direction, and her mouth opened in an impressive yawn that smelled slightly of fish.

" **Ugh**." He lifted an arm to shove her off and gasped as a sheet of white-hot pain coursed through his shoulder and down his spine. Not _that_ arm, then. He shut his eyes and waited for the nauseating pain to pass.

He needed to go to Mideel. And he would, he promised himself, just as soon as he'd met with AVALANCHE and the WRO and convinced them not to call out an airstrike on the missing whelp.

A sound drew his attention, and he opened his eyes to find the guard hound sniffing his bad shoulder. Her tentacle poked at the area of degradation tentatively. He swatted it away. As if the otter sticking its metaphorical nose in his business wasn't bad enough, he didn't need a literal nose in his personal space.

" **Yeah, I know. What're you going to do about it**?" Then again, at least _someone_ noticed. Not that he cared if anyone noticed. In fact, if they did, then he would just have to kill them, right? It wasn't like he needed someone fawning over him and cooking him chicken noodle soup. Although, he wouldn't turn down soup… or a cinnamon roll.

The cat continued staring at him, and a deep two-toned rumble emitted from somewhere in her chest to rattle down into his own. He braced for the reverberations to hurt his shoulder worse but was surprised to find the sound and vibration soothed the ache a bit instead. His head fell back onto the pillow. Maybe just a few more minutes in bed wouldn't hurt. After all, he still had a little while before he had to get up and meet with AVALANCHE. And if the mountain of black fur remained on his midsection in the meanwhile? No one had to know. It wasn't like he had invited her up there or anything. And he was only letting her stay because it wasn't worth the effort to make her move.

The purr deepened as his good arm lifted and his fingers began to scratch behind her ears.

When the sun peeking through the blinds refused to be denied any longer, Chaos finally rolled two hundred pounds of guard hound off the bed, ignoring the disgruntled sound she made.

The shower and a decent night's sleep had gone a ways toward restoring what fighting the Zolom had drained out of him, but he still felt like he'd been trampled by a grand horn. He stumbled to the bathroom where the tile was cold against his bare feet. He peeled back his leather garments to reveal the ashen state of his wounded shoulder. Turning his head so he could see over his shoulder in the mirror, he studied the insidious gray that now wound its way in coiling tendrils up the base of his right wing.

That wouldn't do.

He knelt below the sink and rummaged around in the contents that had come with the place. Grasping a spray can, he sat back on his heels and read the label. _Perfect_.

Standing, he aimed his find at the mirror and depressed the little white button at the top of the can. The fumes in the small confines of the bathroom made him cough twice, but then he looked at his handiwork and smiled. He tossed the now empty black spray paint can in the trash receptacle. Yep, _that_ was more like it.

Restoring his garments and adding a cloak to reassure himself that his infirmity wouldn't be obvious to any onlookers, Chaos exited the apartment, holding the door open long enough for the cat to follow in his wake, and made his way across the street towards Seventh Heaven. Traffic was just starting to pick up as the sun climbed in the eastern sky.

The _Closed_ sign hung in the door of Seventh Heaven, but sounds of stirring emitted from within. Chaos tried the handle and found it unlocked.

The interior of the bar was darker than the bright morning sunshine outdoors and it took his eyes a fraction of a moment to adjust, during which he was encircled by a pair of slender arms. _Huh_?

The tadpole. She smiled up at him. He grimaced down at her. She smiled more broadly.

Tifa came around the end of the bar, wiping her hands on a towel. She looked closer at him. Not much got by that woman. It was almost enough to make him pity the kids she was raising. Almost.

"Marlene, sweetie, why don't you go upstairs and get your room cleaned up?"

"But, Tifa—" The tadpole turned protesting eyes on the chessboard set up on one of the booths, clearly awaiting her chosen rival's return.

" _Now_."

"Okaaay."

Tifa leant against the bar and rested her hands on her slightly rounded midsection. "Good morning, Chaos. Kenji said you had some news for us. Cloud will be back in a minute or two, and Vincent'll be here too." With a gesture, she offered for him to sit, but Chaos chose to continue pacing the bar's dining room instead.

From another booth, Kenji waved a paw in greeting, his mouth too busy plowing through the stack of pancakes in front of him to comment verbally. Why Kunsel had chosen to give his creation the capacity to process food, Chaos would never understand. Strangely, he on the other hand, found he had no appetite. He ground his teeth. It had been tempting to leave this story's telling to the otter, and he would have if he had decided to walk away from the situation.

Instead, for some unfathomable reason, he'd made it his mission to get the whelp back. As such, keeping the present company from initiating an extermination effort was a priority… and not one he felt confident leaving in the otter's paws. No, he would face them down himself. Valentine, at least, would have the sense not to try to fight him on this. He could only hope the rest would follow that lead.

He swiped the glossy black chess queen from the board and fisted it as he waited for the others. The cat made herself comfortable laying under the table at Kenji's booth.

The door swung open to admit two more people into the room, but it _wasn't_ Valentine and Cloud. If three was a crowd, the two Turks certainly put them over the limit.

"Hey, Teef, how's about a cup of coffee? Maybe with a shot of something stronger?" The redhead shifted his goggles higher on his head as he spoke.

" **What are you doing here, Reno. I don't recall inviting you**." A tic developed behind his left eye.

"Funny thing, I don't recall needin' an invitation. This here's a public joint, ain't it?"

His partner gave him a look, and Reno closed his mouth. Too bad, Chaos might not have minded shutting it for him.

"Lighten up, big guy. Kunsel told the boss you were plannin' a meeting he might be interested in." Reno sat on a barstool and propped a leg up on the one next to him—until Tifa put a hand on a hip and glared on him.

The otter waved a paw at the Turks from his booth, his mouth still too full to speak. Chaos clenched a fist. If that bit of furry scrap metal was responsible for them being here... The otter dropped his paw and winced when he saw Chaos' attention directed his way. So much for allies.

Out of sight from the dining area, the rear entrance door slammed shut. Cloud strode into the room from the back, his gaze encompassing the whole room and assessing every occupant. You could take the SOLDIER out of the war, but never entirely the SOLDIER out of the man. Not that Cloud had ever actually made it into SOLDIER, but he'd had the Mako treatments and had been living in a daily war – first with Shinra, then with Sephiroth, and most recently with himself.

Vincent Valentine ghosted in behind Cloud and leaned against a wall with his arms folded.

Cloud gave a nod and small smile at Tifa and started to lay his sword on the counter. Tifa telegraphed him a look that was somewhere between ' _If you don't want to sleep on the couch for the rest of your life…'_ and ' _This is why we can't have nice things.'_ Cloud leaned his sword against the base of the bar instead. Bright boy. Dust jumped off his delivery uniform to form motes that danced in the morning light filtering through Seventh Heaven's windows.

Tifa hopped up on the bar's marble top and leant back on her arms, unhampered by her rounded stomach. Everyone looked at Chaos.

The bar felt uncomfortably small. Now all he needed to make this party even more fun was for Barrett and Yuffie to come waltzing in. _Not._

The otter's fork scraped against his plate as he finished off the last bite of pancake and cleaned the final drop of syrup from his plate. "What my friend is stallin' to say is that Kadaj has jumped off the wagon and straight onto the crazy train with Weiss."

The immediate chorus of "What!" was punctuated with a single "Oh, hell no." Yep, this was going to go over well.

Cloud's hand reached for his sword, and Tifa jumped down from the counter to stand closer to him.

" **It's not like that. The kid is just confused… and stupid**." Never could he have imagined the day when he would be defending the whelp. One more reason to kill him once he found him.

"The last time 'the kid' was 'confused,' he summoned Bahamut, kidnapped half the population of Edge, and brought back Sephiroth! Now, he's paired up with Weiss, whose track record is about the same. And you're sayin' it's no big deal?" Reno's words were met by a few nods around the room.

Silence hung in the air.

Valentine stepped away from the wall he had been leaning against. "You really think you can get him back, Chaos?"

" **How else am I going to rip him limb from limb**?"

That might almost have been a half-smile hidden behind the gunman's cowl. Valentine's gaze moved around the room, eyeing each occupant in turn.

"Hnn… If Chaos says he'll bring Kadaj in, I don't doubt his determination. We've all had our troubles, and each of us would go the distance for a friend."

Tifa's eyes turned to Cloud, and Reno studied his partner for a moment.

 _Wait_ … " **Friend? I think you have misjudged me, Valentine**."

Red eyes lingered on him. "I believe… I have often misjudged you, among other things in the past, but not today, Chaos."

Cloud dipped his head towards Valentine. "If you trust him, Vincent, it's worth taking a chance on. You're right, we've all made mistakes, and if it weren't for our friends…" The blond looked fondly at Tifa. "None of us would have made it through." He redirected his focus to Chaos. "You've got thirty days, and then we'll have to take action before more people are hurt."

Reno sat forward and started to open his mouth, but his partner poked him in the ribs and shook his head.

"Rufus will honor those thirty days as well. You'll also have access to whatever resources you need. He wants his agent back." It was impossible to tell what the Turk thought about that behind the dark glasses.

"Agreed. Thirty days, Chaos." That was Kunsel's voice emanating from the otter's body.

A scraping noise came from the back room. A few curious glances around room revealed that no one knew who was back there. Chaos crossed to room in a few short strides and threw open the doors into the rear of the bar just in time to catch a glimpse of brown hair disappearing out the door into the alley. _Roxey_.

Cloud was right behind him when he turned back into the room. The swordsman halted Chaos with an arm when he went to push past him. What more did the swordsman have to add?

"You, uh, you should talk to Roxey. I wish she hadn't found out this way." At Chaos' blank stare, Cloud continued. "She lost a parental figure and someone she looks up to all in one day."

" **What would you know about it**?"

"You'd be surprised." Cloud rubbed the back of his neck.

Right. Sephiroth had been Cloud's idol before going off the deep-end and burning down his hometown.

" **Hnn**..."

Thirty days. The clock was ticking.

* * *

 **A/N update: Since several people commented their surprise last chapter on the Turks and AVALANCHE allowing Chaos 30 days to bring Kadaj in, I decided to share the rationale here for those who might be interested:**

I have to agree 30 days is a lot of time to sow mayhem. My justification (is a flimsy one and) runs like this:  
It isn't all of AVALANCHE making this decision, but rather Cloud and Tifa and Vincent. I like to think that they have gotten to know Kadaj over the last few months and *want* him to be saved. Even in Advent Children when Kadaj dies, Cloud is tender with him despite everything. I want to believe that Cloud can relate (in Cloud's own emotionally stunted way) to Kadaj's predicament. After all, he almost killed Aerith and AVALANCHE forgave that.  
And Tifa has a no-nonsense but slightly motherly personality (at least in AC) so I can see her cheering for Chaos to bring Kadaj back to sanity.  
And Vincent, well he's also done some things he's not proud of, but more importantly, he knows Chaos (perhaps better than Chaos does) and I think he has a firm belief in Chaos' determination.  
Then there's the Turks. They also have things to make up for from their past, but more importantly, they do what Rufus orders... and Rufus, well, who knows what is going on in that man's head.  
And Kunsel represents the WRO, so he probably has the most obligation to step in... I guess he's hoping for the best anyway. Plus, he feels bad about letting Zack get killed and doesn't want to see Kadaj get killed even if Kadaj deserves it.

And realistically, thirty days to find and stop Kadaj is pretty short. They've already been hunting all over for Weiss for how long? But any people that die in the meanwhile, are they kind of culpable for letting it happen? Yeah. Probably.

So, I have this kind of rationale for it in my head, but it probably comes across as too easy in the story. Even Chaos is surprised that they don't fight him more on this.

* * *

Sidenote: The bit where Chaos sprays the mirror with black spray paint is inspired by an episode of the radio show CarTalk that I listened to years ago in which a lady admitted to using black electrical tape to cover the "check engine" light rather than dealing with it. It's stuck with me as one of the best examples of denial I've heard.

Welcome to new followers Charis, Clarico, and Axile. Huge thanks to Viking and Megatron for reviewing the last chapter. Additional thanks to Viking and Rhapsody for their input on this chapter.

Never fear, this tale will continue even if the updates are a little less frequent. Thanks for your patience and persistence.

Vendetta

03/31/17


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

Kadaj stamped his feet lightly. The sun peeking above the tree line promised a hot afternoon, but the brisk autumn morning still clung to its chill. Just beyond him, Weiss rehearsed a complicated kata in the open space between buildings in the Forgotten City. Apparently the coolness did not touch him; he wore no shirt as his muscles rippled with each movement. Kadaj sipped at a mug of hot spiced drink as he waited for his brother to finish.

"Ready for your next injection, brother?" Weiss wiped at his torso with a towel as he closed the distance between them.

Kadaj began rolling his sleeve up but found the leather did not have the necessary amount of give. He sighed and stripped to the waist. The cool air prickled his skin, on the verge of goosebumps. He studied his arm as Weiss strode to the medical kit and extracted the vial and syringe. His veins stood out in stark relief against his skin, as if already straining for the intoxicating rush. This would be his third injection and would, according to Weiss, be the one that finally allowed him to handle Materia again. One-handed, he tied the tourniquet around his upper arm and pulled it tight with his teeth.

Weiss drew the liquid into the syringe, a transparent lavender color, and eased the plunger up until a thin trail spurted from the needle. Without ceremony, he located Kadaj's vein and released the contents into his bloodstream.

Kadaj drew in a breath through his mouth and let it out slowly as pure euphoria spread through his body. He didn't know what the injections contained – something that would counteract his body's adverse reaction to Materia – but the sensation alone was enough to make him impatient for the treatments.

He supposed the serum was created in a manner similar to the way Weiss mass-produced the Manipulate Materia effect, but Weiss hadn't been forthcoming with the particulars of the process. _Why worry about details and specifics, when all you need do is come to me?_ his brother had asked.

Weiss handed him a piece of cotton which he pressed against the place where the needle had pierced his skin. Weiss dipped his hand into a pocket and extracted a glimmering ball.

"The time has come for that which is your birthright and heritage."

Kadaj nodded, at a loss for words between the singing in his bloodstream and the sudden craving that made him swallow when he saw the Materia in Weiss' hand. The memory of being seared by Materia reared up in a physical aversion. Nevertheless, he stretched out his hand, anticipation warring and winning against hesitation.

His fingers closed around the orb and immediately he felt its call. Deep and intimate. He recognized it like old friend. _Ice._ He instantly knew its potential, every use he could make of it. It was not yet fully mastered and whispered promises of greater power with continued use. He held it up before him and admired the light that glowed through it and bounced off it. Finally, he spoke back to it, acknowledging its kinship and releasing its power. A sheet of ice covered one of the ghostly trees that encircled the town. It shimmered from frosty white to golden where the morning sun touched it. His lips pulled upwards in a smile.

"Ah, it agrees with you. _My brother, your desire is the bringer of Power, the gift of the Pure_!"

Kadaj paused, his concentration broken for a moment by a memory tickling at the back of his conscious mind. " _My Friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess_ ," he murmured in reply, the words he had read in flowing lines from one of Genesis' journals. His eyes snapped to Weiss

"I prefer my version." The warmth faded from Weiss' tone and he gave a dismissive gesture before snapping the medical kit closed.

"You knew him," he spoke as the realization hit him. "You knew Genesis." He'd known, of course – it was the search for Weiss that had prompted them to obtain the files on Genesis in the first place and the ex-SOLDIER had even written about Weiss in his journals – but he hadn't given the connection any thought since his own whirlwind defection.

"We will speak no more of deserters and betrayers." The coldness in Weiss' tone outdid the Materia Kadaj still held.

"Betrayer?" Kadaj sought to wrap his mind around what Weiss was telling him and simultaneously recall what he could from his days poring over the documents provided by Shinra and the WRO. At the back of his mind there were more whispers of Genesis, but so many of Sephiroth's memories had been diffused in the Lifestream. He grasped for them but came away with only hazy snippets of recollection, more brief impressions than anything tangible: a waft of humor, a sliver of competition, and, yes, a sense of betrayal. Genesis' words burning Sephiroth: _You are a monster._ Sephiroth's last words to Genesis: _You will rot!_ Kadaj shook the memories away to focus on what else Weiss was saying.

"That man is disowned and disgraced! I once called him brother. But no more! You know what he told me when he left?" Weiss fixed his gaze on some unidentified point in the distance. "'I realized I can't live on _either_ side anymore.'" Weiss' lips twisted into a sneer as he quoted the words. "Know this: I will not tolerate his likes. There is no place for the tainted among the Pure. Brother or no, you either stand with me or against me!"

Kadaj nodded somewhat numbly, not sure how to respond. "Does he yet live?" None of the documents had been clear on that element. They weren't clear on Nero either, although the sable Tsviet was generally presumed deceased. A crease formed between his brows as he considered the fact that he was by no means the first of Weiss' "brothers."

"Enough of this. Let us speak no more of traitors and turncoats. We have the Purity of the Planet to pursue!"

Weiss strode off, but Kadaj remained, frozen to the spot with a coldness that originated from neither the Ice Materia in his hand nor the already fading morning chill.

* * *

The same geological peculiarities that allowed the Lifestream to bubble to the surface near Mideel also lent themselves to a variety of mineral springs and bubbling mud pots that saturated the air with their sulphurous smell.

Chaos wrinkled his nose in distaste. Why did everything that was supposed to be good for one's health have to smell or taste bad? It was one of those insanely unfair rules of the universe.

"Ahoy! What brings a strange young whippersnapper like yourself to this old folks' town?" The voice belonged to a husk of a man sitting on the ground next to the city gate.

 _Young?_ Chaos was tempted to take umbrage with that remark, but decided to let it go and be glad he didn't look as close to a corpse as the man in the gate. After all, the prospect of finally getting his cure was putting him in a positive mood.

Kenji was uncharacteristically quiet at his side, so Chaos responded, " **I'm looking for the Mideel WRO branch office**."

"Eh, figures. Only two reasons folks come to this old town – either they're here for the hot springs or the WRO. Not much of the latter, either. You'll find it easy enough. It's in that new-fangled building where they put the new clinic."

" **The medical clinic**?" Chaos had some recollection of the old one falling into the Lifestream in a particularly disastrous earthquake.

"That's it. Right in the center of the town, you'll find it."

Chaos graced the old man with a nod and headed into the town. The rather ramshackle town, as it turned out. The vegetation yielded no signs of Mideel's past upheavals – the temperate climate and coastal nature of the southern islands caused foliage to replenish itself at a rate that would never occur in Gongaga or Midgar – but the buildings themselves were cobbled together of haphazardly placed wood and tin. The various huts and facilities he passed as he made his way to the WRO branch office were primitive by Edge's standards. Primitive _and_ eccentric, he added mentally as they passed a store labeled 'The Free Store.'

The three of them – Chaos, otter, and guard hound – drew curious looks from the locals. He supposed they were a rare enough sight even in Edge where the populace was more accustomed to… unique characters… and less likely to lift an eyebrow. He wore his cloak to cover his degradation despite the temperate island climate, but he knew his eyes, teeth, and profile had an impact regardless. If Reeve was living in these parts now, it was likely they had encountered his version of animatronics previously, but Kenji was never one for resisting the limelight. Chaos rather considered removing his paws for him if he didn't stop waving and smiling at random strangers. Padding along pantherlike, the guard hound earned her own share of second takes.

With the average age of the native population, it was really only surprising they didn't induce any heart attacks. Then again… He bared his teeth at a little old lady with her graying hair in a bun. Someone had to make sure the medical clinic stayed in business. Apparently, being in a positive mood was equally as likely to bend him towards gleeful mischief as it was generosity.

As they neared the center of the village, Chaos tossed the satchel he'd brought from the helicopter to the otter. " **Make yourself useful and get us some supplies**."

The otter snatched the satchel from the air with both paws as his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Shopping!" he cried out as he bounded off.

Now why did he have the niggling feeling he had made a mistake by not being more specific in his request? He sincerely hoped the otter came up with something for dinner besides bowties and dress gloves. If not, he was going to be roasting Kunsel's creation over the fire on a spit instead. Nonetheless, he preferred to meet with Reeve on his own.

He found the infirmary in essentially the same location its predecessor had occupied when Cloud was a comatose patient there. It was constructed with a little more care than the surrounding buildings, no doubt evidence of the WRO funds behind its reconstruction.

He'd rather be just about anyplace else, but necessity drove him to take the last few steps. Not only could he feel the degradation chomping at his body, but in the past week he'd noticed it nibbling also at the corners of his mind, threatening his control.

Chaos braced himself for the smell of sick people and antiseptic as he turned to enter the building, but surprisingly, even inside the air remained fresh and tinged with a hint of exotic island flowers. When he inquired after Reeve, the receptionist at the front desk pointed him down the hall. The look on her face made him smirk as he located the WRO plaque above one of the entries in the corridor. He might not be in the best of health currently, but he took pride in the fact that he was perfectly capable of inspiring dismay as ever.

Besides, the condition of his health was about to change any minute now.

The door stood open beneath the WRO plaque, and Reeve occupied the space before a picture window, talking on a phone with his back to the door. Since Reeve wasn't aware of the intrusion, Chaos took time to observe the room, more of a workshop than a traditional office as evidenced by the workbench spread with tools and sundry bits of wire and casings. It was a reminder that for all of his involvement in Shinra and the WRO, at heart Reeve was an engineer first and politician second.

Incongruent elements like the wall-sized aquarium that occupied the space behind the workbench were more of a surprise. Bubbles rose in a line at the back of the aquarium as fish meandered in and around them. It was almost… relaxing. He wondered how the big orange and white one would taste with lemon sauce.

Air flowed in through smaller windows on either side of the picture window and wafted light curtains. There wasn't any sense of the medical facility Chaos had expected upon hearing Reeve's office was co-housed within the clinic. Neither was there the stuffiness of most corporate offices. Instead, the modest-sized room blended a sense of vacation and productivity, colorful fish swimming as a backdrop to the neatly kept array of tools and parts on the workbench.

Reeve concluded his call and turned, letting out a yelp when he caught sight of his unannounced visitor. Yep, that never got old. Reeve might have spent more time than most with Vincent in recent years, but that didn't make him immune to Chaos, to the instinctive fear reaction of prey in the presence of a predator.

"Ah, _ahem_ , Chaos. I didn't hear you come in."

" **The door was open**."

"Hrm, yes, I suppose it was." Reeve's voice was deep, somewhat like Vincent's but without the velvet. His close-cropped beard and hair running toward long in the back were as Chaos recalled them, but he had traded in his blue WRO uniform for civilian clothes despite being at the office. The checkered shirt and khakis made him look younger – or maybe it was that the creases between his eyes were a little less pronounced. In any case, Reeve looked… good.

" **Nice place**."

"I get by." Reeve flashed him an easy smile, just as he had for Chaos' host in the past. It was a little disconcerting, how quickly the man had gone from surprise and discomfort to being at ease and treating him with almost the same easy companionship as he had Valentine. _He_ _wasn't Valentine_!

Reeve appeared unaware of anything out of the ordinary, continuing on as if he and Chaos were old companions. "Actually, I would have to say I'm happy here in Mideel. It wasn't easy, you know, walking away from the WRO – my penance project, something I built from the ground up." He poured a glass of ice water for each of them from the decanter on the desk. "It helped that I trusted the hands I was placing it in, but it's been weird – between Shinra and the WRO, I'd forgotten what it was to take a day off." He cast his gaze back out through the large window. "It was hard at first, but it's also been a relief. Do you know what it's like, being weighed down with everyone's expectations? Being responsible for the recovery of whole cities and the well-being of the Planet? Balancing the needs of a solid infrastructure with an environmentally friendly approach that won't bankrupt future generations? All the while dealing with the likes of Deepground? Thanks for that by the way." He made brief eye contact with Chaos before again turning to face the view of the island from the large window.

" **Hnn** …"

"That's how it was for years, though, one crisis piled on top of another. People on one side looking to me to solve their problems, people on the other side looking to place the blame for all their troubles. It gets inside your head after a while. Wears you down without you even knowing it. When I came to Mideel, I watched my first sunset in five years. Not doing anything but watching the sun sink from the sky. I've gone fishing, too. Not to mention having time for tinkering at the workbench." Reeve shook his head, returning from whatever place he'd been and turned to face Chaos. "But that's not what brings you here, is it?"

" **No**."

"Ah, I'd heard Kadaj has gone a bit off the reservation, as it were. How can I help?"

" **That's not it**." He could handle the whelp on his own. " **I'm told you knew Genesis**."

Reeve's eyebrows shot up. "Now there's a name I haven't heard in years. But yes, I was at Shinra when he went AWOL. Took a good portion of SOLDIER with him too." Reeve's face darkened. "Hmm… an extraordinary SOLDIER, but that was before he lost his mind. Not the best of times, in more ways than one. What do you want to know about Genesis?"

Slowly, deliberately, Chaos removed his cloak and then peeled back his clothing to reveal the graying flesh. He kept his eyes on Reeve, watching his reaction and refusing to look at the disaster that was his own body.

Reeve drew closer, studying the original wound and the spreading disease around it. He hissed a breath in through his teeth. "Degradation? How is that possible?" He leant closer, curiosity scrunching the space between his brows.

Chaos pulled his clothing back into place with a growl. " **If I had all the answers, I wouldn't be here**."

"Oh, right." Reeve drew back a pace. "Start by telling me what happened."

Chaos had gotten through the part about Weiss' sword in Gongaga, how it struck a barrel first and was stained with bright chemicals when it cut into his shoulder, when the old man from the city gate made his way in through Reeve's door.

Glad that he had already covered his injury, Chaos was still irritated at the intrusion. " **This is a private meeting**."

"The door was open."

Chaos scowled. " **Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. Leave**."

"I thought maybe you would like to have your fortune read?"

Chaos gripped the old man by the lapels of his worn jacket and lifted him off the ground. Some people just didn't take a hint… And if that was the case, Chaos was in precisely the mood to give a less subtle message.

The geezer melted out of Chaos' fingers and he was left holding an empty jacket. _What on the Planet?_

"You dinna see that one comin', now did ya?" The new voice piped up from a low point in front of him. "Careful with my outfit. I wouldna want ye ta damage that one. It's quite handy with the locals."

 _Cait Sith_. If there was anything more annoying than critter-shaped robots that poked their noses in other people's business, it was critter-shaped robots with a penchant for dressing up as people and spying.

"Now for your fortune! _Night is darkest before the dawning!_ " The little black and white cat-machine was practically bouncing up and down on its paws with excitement. How its crown stayed in place, Chaos could not say.

As if the otter weren't bad enough. At least it didn't go around spewing nonsense fortunes.

Chaos chose to ignore the feline. _Time to cut to the chase_. " **Reeve, I need the degradation cure. I'm told you're the one to ask**." He wasn't wild about having to ask anyone for anything, but with any luck, the cure would be here in Mideel. If not, Reeve would be able to order its release from wherever else it might be stored.

"Cure? You thought… _Oh_ , you thought I had the cure?"

Chaos' blood sent tingles down his arms as it ran suddenly cold. " **You don't**?"

"Well, no. I mean, Genesis left Shinra before I even knew about degradation."

" **But then he was cured. He was seen afterwards. Valentine said he was cured**!"

Reeve took another step back and delicately set his glass down on the desk. "That may be. But I assure you, the WRO doesn't have the cure. Let me think. Maybe it was Hollander… No, that can't be right. Hollander was killed well before then." Reeve grimaced. "Not a pretty death, either, I heard. Genesis made him into a copy; he had a temper, for sure." Reeve glanced at Chaos and quickly away again.

" **If not Hollander, then who or what is responsible for Genesis' cure**?" Chaos' patience was reaching its end, not at all helped by the fact – which he chose not to disclose to Reeve – that the disease was making its way into his mind like some insidious poison.

"Kunsel's already turned over to you all the documents we have on hand about Deepground. There might be something in there about Genesis. He was rumored to have some involvement with the Tsviets, but I don't know that we ever found anything conclusive."

" **You want conclusive? What's conclusive is this! _This_ needs a cure**!" Chaos swept his cloak free and put all his force into opening his wings to their full extent to reveal the degradation's parade across his body. In the overly small room, his left wing hit hard against the aquarium wall, drenching him in darkness as he was overwhelmed by the pain of it. When the darkness and nausea began to recede, he was on his knees from the agony and his pants were soaked. He raised his head and took in the damage. His wing had driven straight through the glass and shattered the aquarium, releasing water to coat the floor and fish to flop aimlessly at Reeve's feet.

The otter chose that precise moment to make his appearance. "G'day, Ree— Oh, clams! What's got you throwin' a wobbly, Chaos?"

Chaos pulled himself to his feet and oriented himself towards the door without a word. Vendetta had risen to her haunches by the door and cast an indecisive glance between him and the fish flailing in diminishing puddles behind him.

" **Come on, cat** ," he ordered. If he wasn't going to enjoy Reeve's fish, neither should anyone else.

From the room behind him, the commotion continued.

"No, ye kinna put saltwater fish in a pitcher of ice water!" Cait shouted.

"Well, don't just go off like a frog in a sock about it!" the otter shouted back.

The irony of an otter and cat working together to save fish, their mutual prey, wasn't entirely lost on Chaos. He had half a mind to turn back and suggest they put the fish in lemon sauce instead, but for one thing – the darkness continued to lurk at the corners of his mind and crumble his self-control. Disgust with the entire situation won out and propelled him towards the exit.

Vendetta's obsidian nails clicked on the tiles of the corridor beside him, but what Chaos heard loudest of all was the refrain in his head: _no cure, no cure._

* * *

Special thanks to Tanny and Vanillin for favoriting! Also, Viking, PWR, and Stompy for their reviews. And most importantly to Viking for kindly taking the time to beta read this chapter.

A guest reviewer commented on how alike Chaos and Vendetta are. That made me very happy. I like to think Chaos identifies with Vendetta's more cat-like qualities (independence) whereas Kadaj identifies with Vendetta's more dog-like qualities (loyalty).

Also, due to a few questions about how permissive AVALANCHE et al were towards Chaos in the last chapter, I have updated that chapter with a brief author's note explaining their rationale (read flimsy author excuses :). It's not crucial to the story at all, but you want to go back and read it, please feel free to do so.

My apologies once again for the slow updates, but thank you for hanging in there with this story!

Vendetta

06/23/17


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Chaos shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, unhappy with the way its surface rubbed against his wings, unhappy with being back at Mideel's medical clinic in general. At least the examination room was an improvement over the less than private open-air-dorm style of the original clinic where Cloud had been treated. Thank goodness for small favors and WRO gil.

He mostly tuned out the otter's chatter, only half listening as the otter commented on the improvement in Reeve's chronic cough.

"The secret to health, I've learned, is doing what you were born to do." Reeve gave a soft chuckle.

" **I was made to destroy**."

" _Ahem_ , well," Reeve straightened in his chair, "Your situation _is_ unique. And degradation isn't your run of the mill illness, either. Let's focus on finding a cure, shall we?"

That was why he was back here. Apparently, the do-gooder engineer wasn't _too_ upset about the incident with the fish after all and wanted to introduce him to a specialist.

Either that, or Reeve was especially devious and subjecting Chaos to this examination _was_ his revenge.

Why _had_ he agreed to this? Surely it had nothing to the otter's overly large and pleading eyes nor Reeve's blasted logical rationales. It certainly wasn't fear either. Chaos _feared_ nothing.

 _Liar_ , whispered the Inner Voice. Chaos snarled inwardly until it shrunk back into a small corner of his mind.

As if returning to the clinic weren't bad enough, once Reeve and Kenji had their proverbial foot in the door with his agreement to an exam, they'd started in on the hospital gown. Was it not enough of an indignity to be sick? They had to persuade him to disrobe and attire himself in a flimsy, open-backed garment? Was there no justice?

Reeve proceeded to rattle on about the doctor he'd called in to review Chaos' case. Top of the profession… brilliant… _blah, blah, blah_.

The doctor entered, complete with white overcoat – what was the purpose of those anyway? To look at him, he seemed on the young side for a doctor – shouldn't his care rate someone with a little more experience? Reeve made the formal introductions, but Chaos had already started to tune him out. What did he care what the man's name was? All he wanted was a cure, some real clothes, and to get out of there.

"I'll need to examine the patient." The doctor's tone was matter-of-fact and his mouth made a slight downward curve, not quite deep enough to be called a frown. His examination was thorough and impersonal, each of his questions stated in a neutral tone that could have been inquiring about the weather for all the emotion to be found in them. On the whole, it left Chaos to wonder if the doctor saw a living being at all or just a series of data: heartrate, breathing, blood pressure, reflexes, skin scrapings, blood samples…

At any rate, he was itching to leave the small confines of the examination room – his favorable appraisal of the privacy it afforded having long since given way to a suffocating claustrophobia – by the time the doctor straightened and made his final scratches on a clipboard. He could swear he was delaying purely out of some sadistic bent.

The doctor clicked his pen closed and directed his gaze to Reeve. "Overall, the patient's condition seems consistent with an advanced case of degradation. The patient suffers from acute symptoms across an array of systems, having begun at a soft tissue level but spreading to impact larger muscle groups, dermatology, neurology, organ function, and quite possibly cerebral functions."

"Spreading? Like cancer?" Reeve peered down at the notations on the clipboard as if they would mean something to him.

Chaos didn't look. The doctor would eventually get around to telling them what it all meant. He focused on keeping his face impassive. No need to let anyone know of the desperation that clawed inside him like a trapped animal at the thought he might have to live with this humiliating condition the rest of his years.

"No, in that case we would expect to see mutated cells propagating at an excessive rate. No, this isn't like any other known disease, but if I had to compare it to one, I'd say it's closer to an autoimmune disease than a cancer… or perhaps a type of progeria."

"Not like cancer… Ah, so that's good then, right?"

"No, I'm afraid not. The patient's system may not be mass-producing faulty cells, but it appears to be attacking itself, hence the lack of healing and the progression of symptoms. I can make some projections, but without more case histories to examine, I can't offer a precise prognosis or course of treatment. Based on what I have available, I am going to recommend the patient adhere to strict bed rest, daily anti-inflammatories, and a course of immunosuppressant injections."

Who was the patient here? Was it really too much to ask _not_ to be spoken about as if he weren't there?

" **Bed rest? That's the cure**?" That was going to interfere with his search for Kadaj, but it would be worth the delay if he could get himself back to full capacity. And he wasn't keen on the idea of injections, but he could live with it.

The doctor's lips pulled down a fraction further. "No, what I am recommending is palliative care, not a cure. Bed rest could extend life expectancy by two to four months."

" **Life expectancy**?" _Months?_ What exactly was the doctor saying?

"You're saying it's terminal, that you can't develop a cure?" Reeve's voice conveyed concern.

"Yes, the outcome without additional treatment is death. And unfortunately, there is no known cure, nor is it probable that one can be developed for a single case within the time frame we have available." The doctor was using words like "unfortunately," but there was no inflection in his voice. Each word was as precisely and blandly spoken as the last.

"You said with bed rest life expectancy could be extended; how long exactly are we talking?" A familiar furrow had reappeared and was digging itself deeper between Reeve's brows.

"Given the data available on past incidences – which is next to none – and extrapolating from the current rate of progression, the patient may have a month or two to live, which may be extended by an additional few months through the recommended bed rest, oral medications, and injections."

"I don't recall that Genesis' condition progressed that quickly?"

"There is a dearth of accurate data from the former specimen. We have a smattering of information collected from Hollander's notes, but not nearly what I need. That said, it does appear that the current patient's condition is deteriorating at a more rapid rate. There is not enough data to determine the reason – could be any number of variables from species type to method of contracting the disease, to environmental conditions, to…" The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "I will continue to monitor the patient and his response to treatment. We should know more based on those results within the next few weeks. I'll put my team on it, but a cure in the timeline we have is… unlikely. The patient should put his affairs in order. I'll give you some time alone." The doctor slipped out the door, leaving Reeve, Kenji, and Chaos in stunned silence.

Chaos sagged against the plastic chair. _Dying? Months?_ He had a millennium under his belt. How could his remaining days be reduced to such an insignificant period of time? He still had things to do: a whelp to locate, people to threaten, cinnamon rolls to devour… He'd been ready those many months ago to die in the struggle to defeat Omega, to sacrifice himself foolishly for the Planet. But now? He had things to live for now; he couldn't die now. And for what? Not to save the Planet, not for any greater purpose, just his body rotting away and devouring him alive? _No_. He couldn't accept that.

* * *

Kadaj paused on a rock ledge that jutted from the steep hill he was climbing. He gazed out at the waterfall that poured from a cleft in the cliffs opposite him, cascading its way down to form a pool at its base. From there, it stretched into a ribbon of blue that cut through the terrain like a timeless streamer. A breeze brushed the hair away from his eyes. Behind him, trees swayed in the same breeze with a hushed sound that mimicked the distant roar of the falls. Above him, a bird of prey swooped and rolled. Roxie would have known what it was…

He stood there for some time, watching the bird as it rose and dipped, sometimes diminishing to a speck, sometimes close enough he could make out individual feathers on its wingtips. At last, he turned away. The river might be timeless, but he was not. He needed to report back to the Forgotten City. His brother would be pleased to hear the mountains here – south and east of Nibelheim – appeared rich in the natural Mako required for Weiss' process. He would be less happy to hear the other part: excavation and removal would be a challenge in the remote terrain.

He'd spent several days on foot, scouting various sites and searching for signs of caverns or Mako fountains, but getting motorized vehicles into this wilderness would be next to impossible. He'd noted a few sites that could be accessible via helicopter, but those were few and far between.

The positive side of the wild landscape was that he hadn't run into many people either. There had been a party of hunters on the first day, but he'd easily skirted their group with them none the wiser. Weiss had requested he bring back a couple "volunteers" for their army, but he wasn't equipped to drag an entire group along on the scouting mission.

Besides, the solace suited him presently. He _liked_ being with Weiss, of course, but somehow being out here on his own helped clear his mind.

He continued descending, following the rough path of the river and heading towards where he had stashed the van. As the crow flew, it wasn't much of a distance, but the going was slow with dense underbrush and steep climbs – not for the first time he found himself envying the wing Sephiroth had sprouted. After reaching the van, it would be a day's drive back to the northern edge of the continent where he could catch a boat to the Forbidden City. The sun was already approaching its zenith, so he guessed he wouldn't make it back to the van before nightfall, but perhaps by afternoon of the following day.

The sound of voices halted Kadaj in his tracks. He detoured from his course to spy on the source, careful to step clear of twigs.

Crouching down, he watched the two men. One wielded an axe against the base of a tree but set it down to rake curly, sweat-darkened hair back from his face. His partner held a rope secured to the branches above and casually drank from a canteen. They looked healthy and strong, perhaps in their early twenties. Weiss would be pleased.

Neither carried swords – and the axe was clearly a tree-cutting tool rather than a weapon – but he wagered the barrel sticking up from behind their packs belonged to a rifle. A person would have to be suicidal or an idiot to venture into the wilderness without some form of protection. In addition to the monsters spawned in the Nibel region, there were a number of naturally occurring predators.

The men continued their discussion unaware of being observed.

"Just because you're the older brother doesn't mean you get to make all the decisions."

"Maybe not, but have you thought about what dad would think?"

"He's not coming back, Robert."

"All the more reason you shouldn't leave. What would he think of you abandoning what he worked so hard to build? You know I can't finish putting up the new barn on my own. He poured his blood, sweat, and tears into that place."

"So, what? I should too? I don't want to spend my whole life stuck in the middle of nowhere! I want to go places, see things, make a difference. I can do that by joining the military, but not by slaving away out here. And the WRO is offering a considerable sign-on bonus. It would give me something to get started with. That may not be a chance I get again."

The older brother sighed. "I just don't know why you can't be happy _here_. Why do you have to go off and risk your life joining the military? You saw the paper – people are rioting in Kalm. The WRO has made dangerous enemies."

"Can't you see? That's all the more reason to go. I can be of use there."

Kadaj rose from his hiding place and rested a hand on Souba. The brothers stopped talking to give him their full attention. The older brother took him in with a wary eye that then moved to the rifle.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," Kadaj advised him, gazing out through the strands of his hair and smiling slightly.

"Who are you?" the younger boy demanded.

" _Why, I'm your invitation to change the world_ ," he purred as he called to the Sleep Materia embedded beneath his skin. He didn't mind the challenge of a fight – even with the rifle these two were no match for him – but he was cognizant of the long trek back to the van and opted not to waste time.

As the two men slumped over, he reflected that Manipulate Materia might have been even quicker, but as exhilarating as he found it to wield Materia again, he refused to carry Manipulate. Its touch left him feeling dirty. He'd abandoned the one Weiss had provided as soon as he was out of his brother's sight. He knelt by each of the unconscious men, binding their hands but leaving their feet free. True, this method might be more of a hassle than the forced obedience of Manipulate, but it was better than staring into empty, Manipulate-controlled eyes.

While his prisoners were still out, he went through their possessions, casting aside the majority but selecting some food items and survival gear to shove into a pack for one of them to carry. He slid the rifle into his own pack.

He cast an eye back to the sleeping men and let his mind drift to the words of congratulations Weiss would offer. His lips turned up at the thought – but flattened again as he realized he'd be lying if he told himself Weiss' directive was his only reason for taking these two men captive. No, their uncanny resemblance to one another was equally important. The one was taller and his short, dark hair curled tightly against his head, whereas the younger one's hair fell straight and thin over his eyes, but their features were nearly identical. _Brothers._

Yazoo. Loz. He still felt their absence. He'd found something new to latch onto in Weiss, but still the sight of these two stirred his curiosity. What did it mean for a normal person? To be a brother? It was a long way back to the northern shore of the continent, first on foot out of the wilderness and then by van through the North Corel Area, which meant plenty of time for him to observe them.

Kadaj prodded his prisoners to wakefulness. The curly-haired one – Robert his brother had called him – glared at him and struggled against sluggish limbs to stand shakily before him.

"Who are you and what do you want?" he demanded.

"I told you, I'm your _invitation_. Little brother wants to join an army and change the world, and I'm your fairy godmother. I'll be taking you to an army where you can fight for the _purity of the Planet_." Even he noticed the last words lacked the resounding confidence they had when Weiss spoke. He wasn't sure what to call the feeling that rose up and tinged his responses with sarcasm and malice. But he recognized it as something he'd felt before… Before he'd entered the Lifestream, back when he was merely a pawn of Sephiroth and Jenova. The recognition brought with it a more clearly defined feeling: anger. "Now, get up and start walking." He shoved the pack into the man's arms.

Kadaj prodded them along through the wilderness the remainder of the day, the older brother casting him seething looks over his shoulder from time to time. The younger brother – Ivan, he discovered his name to be – looked at Souba with a wistful respect whenever they halted for a breather.

They skirted a small hill, taking the longer route but avoiding the extra effort of climbing. As they rounded its edge, they were met with a roar. A dragon rose on its hind legs over its fresh kill, startled by their intrusion. Its wings beat the air as it prepared to rush at them.

Robert, hands still tied, stepped in front of his brother. Kadaj drew Souba without a moment's hesitation.

"Cut me free and give me the rifle. I'll help fight it," the elder brother pleaded.

Kadaj ignored him and strode forward to engage the dragon. Once he'd secured its attention, he leapt to the side, drawing its first burst of flame away from his charges. Heat scorched across his leather sleeves as the fire missed him by a hand's breadth. Seizing the moment as the dragon drew breath for another flare, Kadaj dashed in to slash at the weak points in its armored scales where the limbs met the main trunk of its body. He raced out of reach of the dragon's flame as it bellowed forth another stream of fire. Then in again to strike, drawing fresh blood in a stream from its vulnerable abdomen. The dragon reared its head back and roared. Its claws swept at him and its wings beat him back. Again and again, he charged it, wetting Souba with dragon blood while avoiding its fames, teeth, wings, and claws.

It was not a swift battle, but the outcome was never a question in Kadaj's mind as he hacked again and again at the hulking beast. Gradually, its strength failed as it bled from numerous gashes. Its movements became erratic and it stumbled as it lunged for him. Kadaj saw his opening and thrust his sword a final time. The dragon fell, its horns coming to rest in the blood-smeared grass and a final breath gurgling from its throat. Its eyes remained open, its elongated serpentine pupils finally losing their light and going dull.

Kadaj wiped Souba clean on a patch of unsoiled grass and looked back at his prisoners. They stood rooted to the spot where he had left them.

"You just killed a dragon… with a sword," the younger brother whispered.

Kadaj nodded. He did not consider it any special feat. Vague memories from beyond the Lifestream suggested Sephiroth had killed more than one dragon in his time. This one wasn't even particularly large.

"Will you… In the army you mentioned… Will we learn to do that too?" the younger brother mustered his words to continue.

Kadaj paused. To his mind leapt a vision of Weiss' army. Mindless, soulless slaves doing Weiss' bidding. Cannon fodder. Weiss' toys to be discarded once used up or damaged. But did it have to be that way? If the recruits could be persuaded to fight for the cause, for the purity of the Planet, wouldn't it be preferable to train them? Wouldn't it be better to have their minds intact? Even Weiss would have to agree, wouldn't he?

"Perhaps. My brother will determine if you are worthy of such. Keep walking."

The brothers continued in front of him. The older brother maintained his suspicious nature, but the younger's face was filled with an admiration that approached hero-worship. He wasn't sure which made him more uncomfortable.

Eventually, Kadaj glanced at the western sky where the sun was sliding down behind the mountains without fanfare, as it was inclined to do in the unpolluted elevations. In front of him, his two prisoners halted for a minute and the shorter leaned against the taller. The rough terrain was exhausting them, particularly with their hands bound before them.

Kadaj drew his dagger and approached the prisoners. As he closed the distance between them with it unsheathed, the taller stepped in front of the younger. A useless protective gesture since Kadaj could cut through both of them in a breath's time. Still… it was the second time he'd witnessed the older brother take such an action on behalf of his younger brother in the course of a few hours.

"We're stopping here for the night," Kadaj told them. He grasped the first man's bound hands and slid the sharp edge of his dagger through the ropes, ignoring the flash of surprise in the man's eyes.

The first man stepped aside to allow him to free his brother as well. "Thank you, sir," the younger brother murmured when he cut away his ties.

Kadaj had used the term "sir" in mockery at Rufus at one time. He searched for the same mockery in the youth's words but detected none, just simple manners in a country kid.

"My _pleasure_ ," he replied back to see how the brothers would respond. The oldest suppressed a grimace while the younger looked at his feet. "Gather wood for a fire."

Kadaj sat back against a log and breathed in the mountain air, content his prisoners were too tired and demoralized to resist. When a satisfactory pile of limbs were gathered in front of him, he casually activated his Firaga and let the flames dance across his palms before directing them to encompass the wood in a bonfire. His prisoners' eyes widened at his leisurely command over Materia. Contentment settled over him as he watched the flames dance and cast their shadows.

He watched as the brothers huddled next to each other. The ground was hard and cold, but he had the impression that their discomfort was as much on account of his presence as it was physical. He turned and pretended to dig through his pack. At the bottom, his fingers slid over something small and solid and he pulled it out.

Kadaj rubbed a finger against the screen of his phone. It felt like forever since Vincent Valentine had gifted it to him. He'd taken the battery out when he'd joined Weiss, a precaution against being tracked through it, but he hadn't gotten rid of it as Weiss had ordered, either.

"Go to sleep, Ivan, I'll keep watch first," the older brother whispered to his brother.

"G'night, Robbie." Exhaustion was already making Ivan's eyes droop.

Kadaj ignored the sensation of the older brother's eyes on him as he set his phone aside to dig in his pack again. His fingers landed on a piece of paper. He withdrew it and studied it in the dancing light from the fire. It was the picture Denzel had drawn of Roxie when she'd gone missing. He'd carried it with him since that day. His heart clenched. He smoothed down the wrinkles and cast another glance at his phone. One call couldn't hurt, could it? Just to check and see if Roxie was doing okay? He couldn't call Chaos who didn't have a phone, but if he called Kenji, no doubt the otter would be with Chaos.

"What do you plan to do with us?" The question drew his attention back across the edge of the fire to where the oldest cradled the head of his now sleeping brother in his lap.

"You're to join the army of the Pure," he replied. " _Congratulations_ , you get to change the world."

"I won't let you hurt my brother."

The man – Robert – _couldn't_ know. Couldn't possibly know how that statement raked coals across an unhealed wound. As if he, frail and unenhanced, could possibly do anything to save his brother when Kadaj hadn't been able to do a thing to save his.

Kadaj folded the piece of paper and tucked it carefully in the bottom of his pack and placed the powered down phone on top of it.

A muscle jerked along his jaw. He'd made his decision; he'd chosen the side of his new brother, and there was no going back.

"Get some sleep," he told his prisoner. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

He continued to gaze at the fire all through the night until it finally died to embers in the first blush of morning.

When had heading home to his brother come to feel like wandering in the darkness?

" _The wandering soul knows no rest_ ," he quoted to the last of the fire's coals as the sun's glow in the east turned the sky a dusty rose color.

* * *

Anyone recognize the location from Kadaj's scene?

Huge thanks to Viking for taking the time to beta this chapter despite being busy with moving to a new country! Further thanks to Viking and Megatron for their recent reviews and to Aeris, Knights and Lurking for favoriting this tale! I appreciate you all so much!

Vendetta

07/21/17


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

 _The world was burning. The screams of its inhabitants cut off one by one as their souls were sucked into the Lifestream and bound by Omega._

 _This was the end and he, mighty Chaos, was Omega's squire to the heavens. Soul wrought of terra corrupt, his darkness beckoned forth the last vestiges of a world grown past its time and turned it to ash. All life would end and be carried forth through the stars to a new world. All that would be left was a blackened husk of a burned out Planet. All would be dark and cold._

 _Chaos roared. Death to the Planet!_

 _What? No!_

 _Yes! Whispers took over his mind. Destiny. Harbinger, this is your purpose. This is your reason for existence._

 _Chaos was burning too. His skin was on fire. His wings cracked, peeled open, dried, and turned to ash. He continued to harvest the Planet as his own body was devoured by flame._

 _Destroy it all!_

Chaos jerked upright and gasped for breath. The fire and ash were gone. It took him a moment to recognize the interior of the WRO helicopter and the steady beat of the rotors. He sucked in a breath, still amazed at the sensation of cool, smoke-free air. He ran a hand across his forehead and it came away damp with sweat. His wings throbbed with a now-familiar ache, but they were there, not burnt to ashes with the rest of the Planet.

A dream. A nightmare. _Not real_.

In a jump seat opposite him, Vendetta yawned.

" **What**?"

The cat blinked. He looked away first.

From the cockpit, their female pilot cast a look back and said, "ETA to Edge: ten minutes."

In the seat next to her, the otter fidgeted with some levers.

"Leave that alone, or I'll tell Kunsel on you when I get home." The pilot flicked wavy auburn hair over her shoulder.

"Ah, come on, Cis. Just let me fly 'er fer a few minutes, yeah?"

"Kenji, you don't know how to fly a paper airplane, let alone a helicopter."

"I read a manual once!"

"Not going to happen." The pilot chuckled and smiled down at him, not unkindly.

The banter from the front continued as the helicopter entered Edge airspace and settled onto the helipad.

Chaos leaned back in his jump seat. He'd refused to stay in Mideel as the doctor and Reeve both urged, instead returning to the familiarity of Edge to sort things out. First, though, he'd planned to go home and sleep away the exhaustion that had dogged him through Mideel, to put aside for a time the thoughts that ran circles around and around his mind.

Waking from such a dream, however, he found himself shunning the doubtful promise of sleep's sweet embrace. Eating was always a good alternative. Sure, he'd grab a bite to eat at Seventh Heaven and then crash at the apartment afterwards. He wasn't _avoiding_ dreaming, he told himself, he was just hungry.

Kenji was still bickering with the pilot when Chaos set out for Seventh Heaven, and he left them to it. Given the choice between ridiculous banter and food, Vendetta's preference was obvious; she tagged along with him.

* * *

Lightning flashed in the distance and briefly illuminated the trees on either side of the road. The trailing rumble of thunder lingered longer, like the stomach of a hungry giant. The late-season storm had caught up to Kadaj and his captives before they could make it to the Forgotten City, and rain sheeted down the van's windshield, obscuring the road and its plethora of treacherous potholes. Kadaj gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, dismissing the endless rehearsals of what he would say to Weiss in favor of putting his full attention on the road ahead. Not that his thoughts had done much good – no matter how many different scenarios he ran through, none assured him of the outcome he wanted.

Kadaj loosened his stranglehold on the steering wheel and cracked his knuckles one by one. The brothers were now sleeping, Robert in the front passenger seat and Ivan in the back slumped over an armrest.

The trip back from the Nibel wilderness had gone without a hitch. They'd only run into one more set of monsters, nothing as dramatic as another dragon.

Kadaj made a small noise under his breath as he recalled the encounter with the green needle-like insectoids. There had been three of them, which seemed to be the species' norm, and on a whim, he'd cut the younger brother loose and pulled the rifle from his pack to hand over to him. Ivan's startled look had given way to a sort of pleasure when Kadaj invited him to demonstrate his skill with the rifle on the three low-level monsters.

The young man's aim was sure, if a little on the slow side. Raw potential that could be honed with instruction. There had been a moment of tension after the last monster fell. Would Ivan hand the gun back or try to turn it on him? More than the pitiful monsters, that moment sent a thrill through his veins.

The brothers had made eye contact with each other for a lingering breath, before the younger handed the gun back to Kadaj with downcast eyes. He'd felt a flash of satisfaction – he didn't deceive himself that the brothers were his friends or that they wouldn't escape if they could do so safely, but maybe if nurtured their relationship could come to be one of allies. For whatever reason, that idea appealed to him.

He just needed to convince Weiss to exempt them from Manipulate processing.

The van jarred as it plunged into a pothole.

* * *

Inside Seventh Heaven's little dining room, Chaos relaxed back into the booth and waited for the cinnamon roll he'd ordered. It was good to be back. Strangely, the bar felt a little like… home. Not that he was sentimental enough to engage in such thoughts. _Gah._ It must be the degradation affecting his mind again.

His eyes roved the room's interior, coming to rest on its proprietor. Tifa leaned a hip against the wall as she listened intently on the landline. Every so often her eyes would stray to his table with a look of pity. _Great._ Any fantasies he might have entertained about medical confidentiality were clearly in vain, then. She gave a final nod and said something into the phone that was drowned out in the din of clinking dishes and other noises from the kitchen.

* * *

Kadaj clicked the padlock closed. Rain soaked his hair flat against his head before trailing its way down his neck. The two brothers gazed back at him from behind the bars, keeping their distance from the others huddled in the holding cell. Its tarpaulin roof and walls provided scant shelter from the cold, and the wind whipped it loose at one corner so it flapped, fruitlessly seeking its freedom.

"It's just temporary." It wasn't quite an apology, maybe not even a promise. It sounded lame to his own ears. He turned away abruptly and headed into one of the odd buildings that made up the Forbidden City.

Inside, he picked up a towel and wiped the rain from his face, then wrung his hair with it while watching Weiss sip from a small glass. He tossed the towel over the back of a wood chair to dry and faced his brother.

"Ah, brother, I do hope you've come with news of progress and victory." Weiss poured a second drink and handed it to him.

He relayed the information he had gathered regarding the Nibel region's ready supply of Mako and its terrain, only half listening to Weiss' responses. His eyes strayed to the muted television playing on a stand in the corner. A news reporter spoke into an oversized microphone, and the scrolling tape at the bottom of the screen read: _WRO pressed to approve free elections_.

Kadaj swirled the dark amber liquid till it kissed the rim of his glass on one side and then the other. He'd learned earlier not to drink it and Weiss never seemed to notice. Unlike the cranberry juice Johnny always kept on hand for him, Weiss' drink of choice burned on its way down. The thought of Johnny's Heaven with its cheery bartender who always smiled when he walked in the door put a lump in his throat. It crossed his mind that Weiss didn't know his favorite drink… he'd never asked. Then the bigger question, would he care? Kadaj set his glass aside.

"And any luck with acquiring and obtaining new recruits?"

Kadaj jerked his attention back to his brother. "About that…"

* * *

Chaos licked the last of the sticky frosting from his fingers as the tadpole parked herself opposite him in the booth and started to set up a chessboard.

" **Scram, kid**."

She plucked the black queen from the box and settled her on the black square.

" **Did you hear me? I said, 'Scram**.'" He didn't raise his voice enough to draw any attention from Seventh Heaven's other occupants, but he let plenty of menace slide into his directive.

"Tifa says you're sick." Marlene settled the last piece, an ivory king, in its place on her side of the board.

" **Tifa doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut**."

"Cloud did that too."

" **Did what**?"

"Pushed us away when he was sick. Tifa says it was a defense mechanism 'cause he was scared." The tadpole said the words _defense mechanism_ slowly and deliberately like someone just learning a new term and careful to get it right.

" **Scared**?" Chaos _wasn't_ scared.

"Mmhmm." The tadpole tapped a finger against her cheek, then selected her knight and moved it boldly onto the board.

Chaos scowled and moved a black pawn.

* * *

Thanks again to reviewers Viking, Stompy, and PWR! Also to Sakura for favoriting!

Vendetta

10/13/17


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